Spidey Boy and the Jolly Green Giant
by Definitely-Beautiful
Summary: Peter Parker is not Richard Parker's son. A year after the Battle of New York, the Avengers find little Peter living on the streets of Latveria, and take him home with them. Little do they know, Peter is being hunted. Parent!Avenger(s), Daddy!Bruce, Kid!Peter / TOTAL REVAMP AND UPDATING GOING ON. COME CHECK IT OUT!
1. Prologue 1

**FEAR NOT, MY FRIENDS!**

**I know that it looks like I've deleted all the chapters, BUT I HAVEN'T, CROSS MY HEART!**

**I've tucked the other chapters away until they can be used. This is the prologue, afterall; you can't have the prologue rearing its head in the middle of the whole story!**

**Also,**

**SORRY I'M SO LATE!**

* * *

He was born on a rainy evening, after the sun had set but there was still light filtering through the windows of the waiting room.

Dr. Richard Laurence Parker paced the length of the room; it had been over half an hour, and still there had been no word. C-sections only took 15 minutes or so, he knew. He'd looked it up. They should have called him in already.

Richard turned on his heel, heading towards the help desk once more, only to find no one manning the desk. Huffing, Richard walked around to look for someone who might tell him what was going on.

This was how Norman Osborn, Richard's employer and close friend, found his best, most successful scientist: pulling his hair out and stalking the floors of the hospital's maternity ward.

The billionaire chuckled to himself; his own son was born only a month earlier and he and his wife were living happily, but he remembered this part- the waiting.

"Richard, slow down, hey," Osborn caught the other man by the arm, pulling him to a halt. He took in his friend's tense expression, "What's the matter? Did something go wrong with the surgery? Is Mary alright?"

Richard shook his head, still looking around frantically before turning to his friend, "I don't know. I can't find the damn nurse, and Mary was supposed to be out of surgery a quarter hour ago. I'm freaking out here, Norman."

Norman frowned, taking his old college mate by the shoulders, "Calm down, Richard. I'll make a call and see what's going on, alright? It's nothing, I promise you. Doctors can be so fickle sometimes," Norman smirked at his friend, the doctor, "running unnecessary tests and carelessly forgetting to notify their superiors."

Richard smiled faintly at Norman's attempt to tease him out of his mood, but he was still worried out of his mind.

"Hold on a moment," Norman smiled, "and I'll get us some real help. Look," he nodded down the hall, "there's a nurse headed our way. We can ask her."

Unbeknownst to either men, this was one of the nurses present during the c-section, and she had a rather grave expression on her otherwise pretty face. She quietly asked Richard to follow her to the postpartum room where his wife and… son were.

Dr. Parker knew something was amiss, gauging from the young nurse's hesitant phrasing and demeanor. Something had gone wrong. Mary was bleeding to death. Their son had a birth defect. Mary was bleeding to death, AND their son had a birth defect. The man's mind ran in circles until they reached the room, and he saw his beautiful wife, dozing softly with a small crib-like cart sitting close to her bedside, a chair set out for, assumedly, him to sit in.

The nurse asked Richard to wait while she went to go get the doctor.

Richard, a little confused as to just what was going on, ignored his worries to take a peek at his son, likely sleeping soundly in the 'warmer' crib-thing.

Richard smiled, peeking in, ready to pick up his son. He heard a cry of newborn anguish, and his smile widened- until he saw what lay inside the crib.

A… thing… writhed among the soft pastel blankets, strikingly intense against the light blues and chalky reds.

Richard's face churned with horror. His baby- their baby- was green.

* * *

**I know what you're thinking, and... you may or may not be correct.**

**I HAVE THE NEXT CHAPTER DONE, but I'm going to wait until the third chapter is finished before I publish it. ALSO, I'll try to put pots and pans of the original chapters back in, because this is all one story, I'm just remodeling it.**

**BIG THANKS to my best Fanfic girl, Just Watch Me Fly, for helping me out with this and for the awesome support! Be sure to check out her stories, _The Thing About Destiny_, and its one-shot series, _Destiny Works in Mysterious Ways_. One of my absolute favorites!**


	2. Prologue 2

**Alright, on to ****part 2**** of the prologue!**

**Peter is 5 months old in this chapter. Moving up the timeline a bit.**

* * *

Norman Osborn hung up the phone with a sigh. He watched as, far below his office windows, the headlights of tiny cars blinked along the streets.

He walked over to his liquor cabinet, pulling out an A.H. Hirsch Bourbon, the one he saved for occasions such as this.

His head scientist, Richard Parker, had once again failed to show any progress on any of the projects they'd been working so tediously on. The board meeting had been pitchforks, tar and feathers for his old friend, and Norman once again thought back to the words of his father- a disgusting man, but a genius business mogul, "never do business with friends". That, Norman was beginning to realize, included hiring friends to be your head scientist, in charge of a quarter of a billion dollars-worth in investments and scientific planning.

Norman took another long sip from his tumbler before rubbing a kink that had formed in his neck.

He needed to get Parker back to work- fast.

But how?

The Parkers were currently dealing with their new child, a child that tended to turn green when it got emotional. Richard had been sleeping in the lab, working into the night with very little to show by morning, and Mary had been left at home to care for the child; the couple's marriage was suffering immensely.

Norman sighed. He hated it, but he might have to fire one of his closest friends, and all while said friend's life fell to pieces. He hated it, but that seemed to be the way of business- keep moving or you'd be swept underneath the carpet in the blink of an eye.

Making his decision, he turned to his desk, swooping down to press the comm button, "Carol, could you please send Dr. Parker up to see me? And bring me a copy of his employment contract, and the subsequent resignation form."

A pause, "Of course, Mr. Osborn. Right away."

Norman glumly stared into his glass, closing his eyes and preparing himself for what he'd have to do next.

What Norman hadn't expected, seeing as how he was about to fire him, was for Richard to come in, a big smile plastered across his face, his eyes blood-shot, his coat and overall appearance askew.

"Norm! I got it, I figured it out!" the scientist took his boss by the shoulders, nearly shaking the man with his enthusiasm and coffee-induced vibrating.

Norman, having nearly forgotten his more immediate concern, grabbed Richard by the shoulders, "Wha-what? Would you quit shaking me before I'm sick all over you!"

Richard sheepishly let go, stepping back, but only for a fraction of a second before he was back," Look what I found!"

Norman watched as Richard pulled out a vial of darkish liquid. At a glance, he knew it must be blood with its deep red coloring, but when the light hit it a certain way, the color changed with a green undertone.

"You took some of Peter's blood?" Norman was both surprised at his friend's willingness to cross such boundaries, as well as Mary's consent to such a thing- because she had to have… "How did you get Mary to agree?"

Richard seemed to lose steam for a moment, "I- what? I didn't ask Mary. No, that's not what I was getting at. This blood- it's not human," Norman's eyes widened at this, "I mean, at least, it isn't normal human blood. Obviously, I expected the results after seeing what the boy could do…"

Norman listened as Richard continued to excitedly rant about the scientific impossibilities of this situation, noting that Richard hadn't listed different parentage as a possible explanation, as it appeared as the most obvious one in Norman's mind. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him.

"Richard," he began cautiously, "Is it at all possible that Peter… isn't yours?"

Richard paused in the middle of chuckling over a mathematical theory, his expression changing from one of surprise to shock to…

Norman frowned, obviously the thought hadn't yet occurred to him that Mary...

"He couldn't not… she's never-"Richard stopped, his face stuck in a deepening frown, before his eyebrows raised in comprehension, "Oh. Oh, that bastard!" Apparently the wrongdoer had been found out.

Norman watched as his normally quiet and non-confrontational friend erupted, swearing and pacing as he at least had the sense not to break anything in his anger. Although, all things considered, Norman wouldn't really have cared if he had broken something. It's not like it would've cost Norman a lot to replace the expensive sculptures or chairs with more expensive artwork and furniture.

Norman Osborn was a good friend; no matter his numerous faults, and his rather brutal and sometimes cold decisiveness, he had always made a point to treat his friends well. Coincidentally, he also tended to make friends with useful people- a politician here, an oil tycoon there, a genius scientist-who-had-similar-if-somewhat-less-obvious-sociopathic-tendencies here.

Because he was such a good friend, Norman Osborn knew he had to do something. That's when a thought popped into his head; didn't Richard mention the boy having abilities?

Norman hid his smile as he watched his friend's livid fit. Yes, Norman Osborn knew how to help his friend, he knew exactly what to do.

* * *

**Ok, I felt that this was kind of a shaky ending, as it took a lot more editing and re-wording than the rest of the chapter, but hopefully it turned out alright! Next chapter- Prologue part 3- is going to be written in the next two hours, and then, God be willing, the first chapter will begin!**


	3. Prologue 3

**Ok, I was writing this on the fly as a filler chapter, but then I got to writing and it was awesome, and now it's half past 12, and I've got class at 8 tomorrow morning, so you're welcome.**

**And, just so everyone's clear, I know that somebody working at OSCORP might find it suspicious that Richard brings his kid to the lab instead of the OSCORP daycare center downstairs, but I figure any questions are likely squashed and quickly brushed under the rug by Mr. Osborn. He likely doesn't want his newest pet project to get any unwanted attention.**

**MADE A SLIGHT CHANGE WHICH WAS A BIT OF A STUPID ON MY PART. CAN YOU SPOT IT?**

* * *

Richard pulled into the employee parking lot, his favorite band, Journey, playing on the radio while Peter sang along as best he could- he was, after all, not yet one, and so most of the lyrics were gabbled baby talk. Richard got a kick out of Peter's attempts at words when the baby first started about a week before. Getting out of the car, the lyrics of Separate Ways (Author's note: OBVIOUSLY DON'T OWN THIS SONG!) in his head slowly getting replaced by Peter's own jabbering. Richard quickly got the boy out of his car seat, picking him up and carrying the boy comfortably into the elevator, the car seat in hand and a 'baby essentials bag', as Mary called it, slung over his back.

Richard would've rolled his eyes, but he was so used to it by now, he no longer cared. In fact, he found it kind of entertaining to have people gawk at him as he carried all the baby stuff + baby up to the labs, all whilst dressed in his white lab coat.

Peter pointed out things along the way to the elevator, chattering about whatever had caught his interest, and making a passing intern- what was her name? Carol? Carly something?- giggle.

Peter quieted and watched her as she passed by.

Richard looked over at the boy, and then behind to the girl, barking a surprised laugh, "Peter, I think you're a bit young to be interested in girls aren't you?"

Peter twisted around, smiling, before he began his excited nonsensical blabber once more.

Once the elevator reached the genetic engineering lab, Peter stopped, sobering as much as a baby can.

It was moments like this that Richard began to think he noticed the changes in Peter, changes that he and the other scientists assigned to this project had created. Peter was smart, extremely self-aware, and beginning to show signs of growing strength and agility. He was far more developed than any one year old ought to be, a good sign and something that Mr. Osborn would be most pleased to hear about.

Richard quickly set down the baby stuff, and carried Peter over to the main 'island'- a computer console setup that was often used to either research information, or perform tests. This particular island had been converted so that the center was a circular platform for Peter to be set down on, surround on all sides by a transparent partition upon which data and other information could be projected. In a sense, it was a technologically overstated crib.

And so the work day began; testing, blood samples, a few tears shed, and a sweet candy for being such a brave boy, and Peter was finished with his part for the day, while everyone went to study the results and begin tests on the drawn blood. Richard sat, studying the effects of introducing other animal dna into the sample, when he felt a tug on his pant leg. There was Peter, who had been left under the apparently not-so-watchful eye of Dr. Frederickson. Picking the boy up, Peter's big grin made him smile. The boy looked almost… mischievous?

"Peter?" Richard drew out the last syllable, a suspicious look on his face as he appraised the baby's sly look, "What have you been up to?"

Peter giggled, before the sounds of a high pitched squeak could be heard from the next room, making the boy giggle more.

Richard quickly scooped Peter up, walking quickly to see what was going on. Somehow, it looked like Peter had climbed up onto the counter that Richard had set down the bags on, spilling the sippy cup of milk Mary had packed, which, being the color that it is, went unnoticed by Dr. Frederickson. The poor man had been frantically searching for his lost charge, when he slipped on the spill. Frederickson lay on his back, his lab coat and pants soaking up the cold liquid as he lay there, seemingly uncaring.

Richard looked at the man, then back at the other scientists and lab techs present, then at Peter.

Finally, Richard looked back down at Frederickson… and accidently let out a peep of a laugh. Peter's quiet giggle reached the others' ears and soon everyone was laughing, slowly from a quiet chuckle to some full out guffaws. Richard had tears running down his face, as they all looked down at poor Frederickson, still lying on the ground, slightly dazed.

Soon, Richard set Peter down, pulling Frederickson to his feet with the help of another, and sending him to the infirmary to get some ice. His head had a slight bump on the back.

Peter kept the days at work interesting for Richard like that. That spilled drink incident was soon followed by a power outage when Peter got loose again and pulled some wiring out. Needless to say, that was the last time Dr. Frederickson was asked to watch the boy.

Over the weeks, things like children's drawings on both paper and digital documents, a bird flying around the lab (Richard saw that one as iffy for whether or not it was Peter's fault; honestly, how would a baby catch a bird and get it into the labs unnoticed?), and a drugged scientist (Peter accidently tipped a bit of anesthesia in that particular doctor's water cup, somehow), kept Richard and his team busy, and highly entertained.

It was on a Friday night, the end of the work week for Richard that he found himself having to take the subway home instead of the car. Mary usually carpooled with coworkers to her advisory job at a law firm downtown, but a case at the court house and lack of transportation that day meant she got the car.

Richard sighed heavily, as he sat down in a near empty car, Peter's carrier and baby bag in hand. The child was sound asleep having had a hard day. Richard would have to agree, that day they had to draw more blood samples than normal, and run even more tests, at the behest of Mr. Osborn. The man was asking for results by the end of next week, and they hadn't even been close to what the CEO demanded. However, with a few, quick changes to the schedule, Richard had made it work.

Sighing once more, and leaning his head against the window behind him, Richard couldn't help but notice the rather harsh sounding conversation occurring at the other end of the car. Two young men, both looking sickly pale with sunken eyes, were discussing something rather tensely.

Neither seemed to have noticed him.

Richard didn't pay them any mind until he heard the click.

Suddenly, several loud shots were fired into the ceiling of the subway car, and one into the man whose back was facing Richard. The man fell to the ground, screaming and writhing. A fight broke out between the young man with the gun and a girl who looked just as pale and sickly as the first two. Fists flew, and the woman cried as she fell to the floor.

Richard watched on in horror and incomprehension. When the gunman turned towards Richard, he finally seemed to notice that he wasn't alone in the car.

If Richard had been paying any mind to what he was doing, he would have noticed that he had instinctually grabbed Peter out of the baby carrier and was holding the boy close to him and shielding the boy ever so slightly with his body.

The gunman walked towards them, a crazed look in his eye.

This is how I die, Richard thought to himself, before a strong sense came over him that, no, he wouldn't leave his boy alone like this, fatherless, and he also wouldn't let this junky shoot the boy.

The man walked up, taking the last few steps in a leisurely manner, before pressing the gun to Richard's forehead, making the man flinch at the cold metal.

"'s been a beautiful day, in't't? the man asked almost casually, if not for the slight shake in his voice, indicating how close he was to a psychotic break.

"Yes, beautiful," Richard answered, evenly.

"Never seen dis blood, a'ight? I wasn't 'ere, you didn't see nobody, y'hear?" the gun was shaking against his forehead, clunking slightly, making Richard wince again, and hold Peter tighter.

"No, I never saw what happened. I never saw that," He nearly whispered the last part, his voice breaking.

The man laughed slightly, in a maniacal, crazed sort of way.

Richard held Peter close, not watching where the man got off and not looking up and around until he knew for sure that the man was gone and the train moving.

They'd missed their stop by two stations. The police took what description Richard could give, and then sent him on his way home. He never told Mary what happened. He also never noticed that Peter was awake the whole time.

* * *

**So? What do you think?! Good? Bad? Was Richard a little too... something?**

**NOTE ON RICHARD'S CHARACTER ANALYSIS: Ok, Richard has a seemingly sociopath-ic character (specifically a lack of conscience), BUT since I know nothing about sociopaths, I just kind of fiddled with it, and he grew a conscience. If he seemed a bit too chill during the murder scene with a gun pressed to his head, I obviously wasn't writing it correctly, but instead of trying to write better, we're just going to chalk that up to being in shock, and his brain trying to switch between 'defense' and 'child protection' mode.**

**I don't know. Does this even make sense? Tell me I'm doing this right, please, by leaving a comment and favorite and follow if it strikes your fancy!**

_**DID I ALSO MENTION THAT I HAVE THE NEXT CHAPTER ALREADY DONE, AND IF I DIDN'T POST IT SOON, THAT WOULD ONLY BE BECAUSE I'M EVIL? MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA**_


	4. Prologue 4

**Ok, this chapter was rewritten MULTIPLE times, so I'm just gonna pray and cross my fingers that a) the changes aren't noticeable and b) don't screw up the already completely written plot. Keep your fingers crossed, and let me know if you find any plot holes!**

**Also, this chapter has been written for a while, but I realized along the way that I needed to first write more character development/bonding for Richard and Peter. So, this was put on the back burner and had to be redone to fit with all the new info and slightly altered storyline.**

* * *

She began to notice the marks on Peter's arm just after his first birthday. The marks looked like puncture wounds, but there were too many for it to be a pinprick, and Peter wasn't ever near anything so sharp. It was such an odd pattern; Mary surmised that it had to be a rash of some kind. While she was pregnant, she had read hundreds of parenting books, but there wasn't any sort of rash or infection or other illness that made a rash lack this. However, Mary was a sensible person, and she knew not to panic. It likely wasn't anything terrible, she just needed to take him in to the doctor and they would tell her.

Thinking about it more, she'd have to ask Richard about the Oscorp Day Care Center that he took Peter to every day. She'd only been there once when they took a tour of it, and it seemed safe, but now she began to wonder.

"Richard," Mary walked into the kitchen before heading back to her husband's office.

An answering "Huh?" echoed through the house, and she followed it, Peter sitting happily on her hip.

As she walked past the living room, Mary almost laughed. Richard sat on the rug in front of the sofa, perfectly organized chaos spread out before him, and an IDEA crib building manual in hand and frown in place.

"What are you doing?" she giggled, "Peter already has a crib, Hun."

"Ah-hah! But, he doesn't have _this_ crib!" Richard crowed looking up briefly with a big, goofy grin on his face.

"Uh-huh," Mary answered, unconvinced, "and what's so special about this particular crib that we should replace the perfectly good, completely put-together one upstairs with it?"

Looking down at the instruction manual, Richard searched through the sections, "Well, uhh… here! Here, look, look, this one has easy-rollout wheels on the legs so that we can easily move it around if we want to rearrange. It's also got this cool little feature where it can later be converted into a bench, and it's sturdy enough for up to three average adults to sit on. And, uhm… oh, well, we'd have to take the wheels off for it to be a bench, so I gotta be careful with how tight I turn the screws…" Richard went back to staring at the paper, flipping it over to see another section of instructions.

Mary watched, a small smile gracing her face. She'd been worried at first; there was a time where Richard seemed to almost dislike Peter, and had shut himself in his office, alone. Then he'd begun to take Peter to work and, slowly, he seemed to warm up to the idea of fatherhood. Mary loved this man. She'd made a few mistakes before, that was true, but she truly loved this man and their son. Their son, she repeated to herself, Peter's got my eyes and Richard's… nose. His nose, definitely. He'd probably look more like Richard as he grew up. Definitely.

Sighing happily, Mary swooped down to kiss Richard's cheek, whispering an "I love you" into his ear because she knew it always made him blush, and walked back towards the kitchen, her little boy in hand.

"Peter, what do you think about making some cupcakes, hm? Oh, that's right. Richard," Mary quickly turned back, "Would you like some cupcakes? I was planning on baking some for that fundraiser May is doing, but it's being postponed for the weather. Can't let that batter go to waste, now, can we?" Mary turned her question to Peter who smiled up at his mother happily.

Richard watched as his wife and son contentedly, "Oh, I'd love one. But leave me the-"

"- Frosting bowl. Yes, I know," Mary laughed and walked away.

Richard chuckled boyishly. The warmth that filled him, watching his wife and son- yes, his son- as they walked back to the kitchen, softened him. Yes, this was most definitely his family, no matter how it began.

He'd been so abhorred by the boy at one point, but looking back over the months, Richard was amazed that he could ever feel something negative about his son. Peter was so undeniably lovable and so perfect and so… he couldn't be angry at the boy for being the result of another's mistake. Richard shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. It didn't matter, none of that mattered now, he was Peter's father, and nothing would change that.

There was only one problem with Richard's life's felicity: his work. It was becoming nearly impossible to take Peter to his lab every day; he'd even begun to find excuses to delay any testing on the boy. Spilled or contaminated test injections, attention to other department projects, and even an accidental bump into the rodent subjects' cage were used to delay any human testing. That last little setback not only spent a whole day looking for said rats, but a week's worth of intense cleaning as Richard explained that any germs could harmfully affect a number of tests being run. Suffice it to say, he'd become quite the little mischief maker. Richard frowned, though, knowing it wouldn't last much longer. He couldn't do it anymore; the experiments would have to stop, that was the only acceptable ending, and that left one more problem: Osborn.

He always knew his friend could be cruel. He'd watched many a scientist disappear, either from the community, or all together. He had his suspicions, especially when one particular scientist, a Dr. Malek, was found in the river, shot in a mugging gone wrong- supposedly. If it weren't for the fact that he knew Malek had been considering exposing some shady business he'd uncovered in his department, he might have let it go as nothing, but…

Richard needed to do something soon, or else he'd end up dead in a river himself, friend or not. The sudden image of two bodies floating limply beside his own flashed before his eyes, the middle body being a little boy's.

Richard's spine stiffened as his phone rang in the other room. He got up to answer it.

"Dr. Richard Parker speaking," Mary listened to her husband's faint voice in the other room, sighing happily. Their life was so perfect; a perfect home, a perfect son, perfect jobs, etc. etc. Well, obviously there were some… past… discrepancies, but the past was the past, and couldn't hurt them now. No, from now on, their lives would be just as they should be, as the fates had written it: perfect.

* * *

**Was it good?! I KNOWWWWWW, it's short, but I'm typing as fast as my lazy little fingers will go! What did you guys think?**

**SECRET TIME:: I'm gonna let you guys in what I'm planning on doing from this point forward with the story.**

**I plan to skip past the next year and how exactly Peter gets to where he'll be in the next few chapters- THOSE OF YOU WHO READ THE ORIGINAL KNOW WHERE WE'RE GOING, DON'T YOU LITTLE BUGGERS?!- and I know that's really vague, but it'll make sense as the story continues.**

**I digress, _BASICALLY_, we're going to meet the Avengers and skip all the boring-not-so-boring history that comes before that. That doesn't mean we won't come back to what happens to Peter in this next year, but that'll have to wait. I know, really vague, but keep reading and it'll make a lot more sense! Maybe...**


	5. Final Prologue

**Ok, I lied. Here's a little scene from Peter's POV about his parents disappearing.**

**IMPORTANT FACTS:**

**-Peter and his parents are (obviously) no longer in the United States. I tried to make that obvious, but it's a little complicated coming from a toddler's pov.**

**-Peter is now 4 years old. I know, that's quite a time jump, but I figure that Richard and Mary escaped with him, and had been in hiding here for at least a year, if not more. Probably...**

* * *

Peter didn't have many memories of his mommy and daddy. He could remember his mommy's smile, and his daddy's silly bedtime story voices. He remembered eating green and chocolate ice cream with them when his tummy hurt, and he remembered waking up to his mommy crying. He also remembered being set down outside and told to hide by his daddy.

They were in that big scary market his mommy and daddy took him to sometimes. People there were always saying so many funny words he didn't understand, and the place was really hot and yucky during the day. The place had seemed even scarier then, it was still loud and scary, only it was dark out too, nighttime. His daddy had told him to hide in the boxes behind a stall, his voice was harsh and made Peter feel like he was in trouble. He quickly crawled in, before peeking back out at his parents. Peter had realized it was past him bedtime and had tried to ask why, only to be shushed. Daddy had taken mommy's hand, looking around for something, before telling Peter that they'd be back soon. Mommy looked scared, and that had scared Peter. Were there monsters out there? Mommy told Peter she loved him, her eyes looking kind of shiny.

Peter watched them go. They ran around a corner and disappeared. Peter waited, but had started to get scared when they didn't come back. Why didn't they come back?

Peter watched people's feet pass as he sat against the back of the box. He was so tired and he wanted to cry. Somebody kicked the box, causing Peter to scream. More shouting and unfamiliar words and laughing and the sound of a dog barking; it was so loud and scary, shadows passing and feet going by, and Peter was oh so tired.

That was the last thing Peter remembered about that night.

He never saw his mommy and daddy again.

* * *

**I know, it's annoyingly short, so _I'M GOING TO BE POSTING THE NEXT CHAPTER LATER TONIGHT!_**

**It's already written, but I don't want any readers to get confused if they see that I updated and totally skip over this one, SO, keep your eyes peeled for the update later tonight!**


	6. Chapter 1

**AND SO OUR FAVORITE STORY BEGINS.**

**This next part is a completely revised version of my original first two chapters when I first wrote this story. Let me know if you recognize any of it!**

**Peter has just turned 5 recently.**

**When his parents fled the United States, he was a little over a year old.**

**The Parkers hid out in Latveria (a country I'm sure you're all familiar with) 'til Peter was 4, when they were discovered (last chapter).**

**Peter lived the past year- a four year old, I know, it's a stretch- on the street, and has obviously learned the language. In defense of his age, Richard's experimentaion and his... special... blood protected him with greater strength, intelligence, and of course, his spider abilities to make things easier. He also has this knack for scaring off anyone remotely threatening...**

* * *

"Oscar Mike. Approaching AO. What is your S/A? Over," the voice over the mic stated.

Bruce sighed as he walked down the street, tempted to rip the comm out of his ear. The radio was static for a second before, "Tony, get the hell off this radio, and get back on mission," Natasha's voice stated in that oh-so-serious tone with just a touch of exasperation.

"Hey, that's not fair," Tony whined, "I have way cooler things to say than Bruce, and he isn't even saying anything of importance! He just keeps repeating, 'Oh, I'm super friendly with the locals' and 'I remember this building, because it's where I used to hide from the police when they were after me!' and 'that place serves really good Simit.' I have way cooler things to say," they could practically hear the pout on the other end.

"…Over-"

"Clint! Don't encourage him," Natasha yelled over the sound of his childish giggling.

They were all cut short when another party joined the conversation, "Team, we're not here to make casual conversation. Stop goofing around and get back on mission," Steve's commanding voice shut them up.

Silence reigned for a few moments before the Cap's voice came back on, "Besides, Bruce's stories are much more interesting. Over."

Clint's cackling and Tony's swearing made Bruce have to chuckle. His team was something else. The media called them heroes, but Bruce called them children.

After a good two hours of scouting the dark and twisting maze of the Latverian slums, Bruce found himself at a rather run-down but surprisingly clean outdoor cafe, hidden amongst the tiered homes and back alleyways. Sitting down at a small, three-legged table, Bruce ordered a black coffee.

He grimaced over the bitter taste, but sat quietly. It didn't take long before he found what he was waiting for.

"I've got eyes on 'im," he said casually into his mic as a man stepped out of a squat little house across the street.

The others had been quiet for a time while they went about their duties in the search, although Bruce was sure that he could here Tony playing Sonic Dash in the background earlier.

"Report," Captain America sounded sleepy, making Bruce smirk.

Unfortunately for Bruce, that caught their target's attention. Trying to look casual, the short, brawny man stepped out of the doorway and towards a back alleyway. Bruce had found the target a ways back in a dusty, old market, and had followed him all the way to this location, waiting to corner the man.

Bruce tried to be as discreet as possible as he paused to tie his shoe and reported into the comm unit, "He suspects me. Hone in on my location and focus on the man in a tarboosh and a dark green scarf around his neck," Looking up, he saw that the man was already running through the crowd and into the dark alley, "He's headed your way Steve. Incoming in 5, 4, 3, 2…"

The sound of a scuffle and gargled grunts came over the comm, before Cap answered, "He's on the move. This one's slippery, and he's carrying hidden weapons in his sweater."

"Capsicle just got taken down by a man in a sweater?" Tony asked incredulously before snickering.

"Steve, are you hurt? I'm heading your way," Bruce got up to go before he was answered.

"Don't bother, Doc. He nicked me a bit, but it's not serious. Right now, it's too important to catch him," The sound of Steve running told Bruce that he was already on his way to doing that.

"Alright," Bruce conceded, "but come see me as soon as we're finished so I can patch you up. I would argue the point, but I don't think I can catch up with you."

Steve laughed, and Bruce sighed, "If I'm no longer needed, I think I'm going to sign out. You can come pick me up when you're all finished."

"Right," Natasha acknowledged before continuing to report stats to the others.

Bruce smiled quietly to himself as he took the comm out of his ear.

About a minute passed before Bruce was interrupted from his coffee once more. Across the street, a commotion was occurring between a little boy and an old woman. The argument didn't last long, and from what Bruce could surmise from the gesturing, as they were speaking a language he only vaguely knew, the boy was telling the old woman about something, but she was ignoring him.

As Bruce watched him run off, he winced at the old lady's crackling Latverian. Something about the boy caught Bruce's eye, but he was around the corner of a dark alley before the scientist could form the notion in his head properly. Bruce didn't necessarily brush it off- being a scientist, detail is meaningful, even if it was only a little boy.

An hour passed in total peace for Bruce, who was usually surrounded by frustratingly silly arguments between Clint and Steve over sports teams' stats, dangerously close-calls with throwing knives from the hands of a trained killer, and consistent jabbing of pokey objects and sass from the resident billionaire, playboy philanthropist.

Yes, life in Avengers tower never got old.

Bruce had long ago paid his bill, and now stood as the little coffee house started to close up for the night. Looking for a way to make the peaceful- albeit, cold- night last, Bruce walked through the streets, observing food stands and vendors selling their wares, before turning into a deserted alleyway in the direction of the chosen assembly point (ha, irony.).

Except, the alleyway wasn't deserted. Standing in front of a crouching bundle stood a gang- and gang would be the best word in this case- of drunken men, obvious by their swaying posture and empty bottles in hand.

The bundle turned out to be that woman from earlier, who, although older, was still beautiful enough to attract attention. Bruce was about to step out of the shadows in defense of the woman when something stopped him.

Above the group of men, on the roof of the building behind them stood a tiny figure. The small form shifted until it was crawling- yes, crawling- down the wall, silent but quick, completely unnoticed by the drunkards.

Just as the apparent leader of the group reached out his sweaty paw-like hand to grab the woman, a sort of white filament shot out from the shadowy being, sticking to the man's hand and effectively pulling him back into the shadows where grunts were heard before it quieted.

Everyone in the alley had grown quiet, too surprised by the suddenness of the lead drunkard's disappearance.

A quiet child's giggle could be heard somewhere above them all. Bruce found it odd, watching the men, when their faces became drawn and pale, and some even backed away towards the alley's entrance.

"Yaris, yaris, yaris, amilyen gyorsan csak akar, de Majd én elkaplak. Nem lehet megúszni. Egy pók eszik meg a gonosz embereket. (Race race race, as fast as you want, but I'll catch you. You cannot get away. A spider eats the evil people.)," Paired with the ghostly, childish giggles echoing off the walls, even Bruce felt shivers down his spine.

The men looked about ready to faint, but they all stumbled towards the alley's entrance, passing Bruce by as he stood in the shadows. The scientist's sharp nose smelled the distinct acrid scent of urine. He would've laughed if he hadn't been so creeped out himself.

Checking that they were all gone, Bruce approached the old woman, asking in simple Latverian, " Asszonyom, jól van? Orvos vagyok, megsérültél? (Ma'am, are you okay? I'm a doctor, are you hurt?)"

The woman shook her head, gathering her groceries with shaking hands. Bruce tried to help her, but she shooed him away, pulling out a ripe, crispy apple.

Bruce's brow furrowed as he watched her throw the apple into the shadows. Running out the retrieve the fruit as it rolled was that little boy from before. Bruce gaped in surprise, as he saw what had caught his eye earlier. The boy didn't look anything like the average Latverian child. For one thing, he was half-starved and barely clothed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt twice his size, which likely did nothing to keep the boy from freezing. For another thing, the boy was obviously not Latverian. He looked to have traits of Scottish in his face, with his wavy, warm auburn locks, his bright green eyes, and, although rather pink-cheeked, very lightly freckled skin.

This boy did not belong here.

"Helló fia. Beszél angolul? (Hello, son. Do you speak English)?" Bruce sat up on his heels and the boy shifted back into the shadows. Bruce frowned, but sat down, ignoring the old lady as she scurried away into the night. If he had been thinking more clearly, he would have offered to walk her back to her home.

"Mit- erh, umh, Mi…" Bruce couldn't think of the words, so he continued in English," what's your name, son?" the boy looked down the lane, but stepped forward.

"Peter."

Bruce smiled, "Well Peter, that was very brave of you to help that woman. Doing good things deserves a reward, yeah?" Bruce wanted to sit the boy down and figure him out. The child was quite the puzzle, and most unnervingly, somehow familiar. Bruce wondered at that, a random child in the slums of Latveria was somehow familiar to him. Coincidence? "How about we go get some hot chocolate. I think I saw a stand back there a ways. How does that sound?" Peter's eyes brightened at the mention of such an unthinkable treat, and he somewhat hesitantly took Bruce's proffered hand, gripping it weakly.

Bruce frowned at that. Maybe an order of rétes was in order as well.

**What'd you guys think?! I brought back my original chapters with a lot of revision done. I don't think I'll be including many others besides these chapters, but maybe some original concepts!**

**Ok, the foreign language I used is Hungarian, except for 'yaris' which is Turkish for run. I wrote it in Turkish originally, and I like that word so much, I kept it.**

**In Marvel Wikipedia, it said Latverian (the native language of the fictional country, Latveria, where every has been taking place) was a derivative of Hungarian, so I just used that with that bit of Turkish from the original story.**

**KEEP IN MIND, I may have studied German, but I wrote those sentences with Google translate and a complete lack of understanding of the Hungarian language, so it can't be expected to _actually_ make any sense.**

**IF ANY OF YOU GUYS KNOW HUNGARIAN, LET ME KNOW!**


	7. Chapter 2

**UPDATING! YASSS, IT HAS BEEN ACCOMPLISHED!ldgahaggaj!aglk!hl!l!j!hl!kh!h!n**

**Ok, just a quick chapter to move things along. I want to update as often as possible so that I keep the ball rollin', so hopefully I can do that.**

**I CANNOT believe the response this got yesterday! Do you guys know what you did?! 627 views in one day and 150 or so visitors!**

**I LOVE YOU GUYS!**

* * *

Tony and the others stood looked over the screens, searching for their last member. After apprehending the HYDRA informant, they went to the little café Bruce had been sitting at. Finding it closed, they headed back to the Quinjet.

Tony huffed, leave it to Bruce to become their next mission.

"Got 'im," Clint called from the computer console, "He's just down the street. He's… buying a drink for a little boy?"

Tony frowned, "Hopefully he's watching his back pocket. These street kids are sneaky little bastards."

Steve looked over, "Tony, not all kids on the street are petty thieves. And those who are probably have a good reason for taking money. You know, when I was a kid-"

Tony moaned out a sigh of boredom, peeking at Steve to see his slightly miffed reaction.

Natasha spoke up, "Banner's walking away. Clint."

"On it," Clint answered as he hopped out of the jet, landing in a practiced roll on a rooftop below.

The man quickly made his way down, and ran towards the two street dwellers, calling out, "Banner, time to go!"

Bruce turned around, a worried frown gracing his face as he noticed the minute tensing of Peter's shoulders. The boy seemed about ready to bolt.

"Peter," Bruce knelt down next to the small boy, "What do you think, kiddo? Would you like to come with us back to our home, or do you want to stay here? We'll try to find your family, like I promised, and you don't have to be in this scary place anymore..."

Peter looked up at the nice man. He was offering to help find Peter's parents, or somebody else in his family. Peter imagined going home to the pretty house he vaguely remembered. Those blurry images of his parents rolled into his mind, and he focused on the hazy impression of the rooms behind them. The pictures dissipated every time he tried, making Peter want to cry. He just wanted to see it.

Bruce blanched for a second, trying to figure out how to keep Peter from crying, before pulling the boy in for a hug, shushing him and comforting him as best he could. He was a little out of practice, not having been around children in a long while, but the boy had obviously been under a lot of stress living alone on the street, and at the insane age of 5 years old.

Clint watched, before doing a double take. Just for a second while watching Bruce comfort the upset little boy, he thought he saw… green. Clint would've been calling in backup- a hulking out Banner holding a little boy was bad, very _very_ bad. But when he looked again, the green was gone, and the child seemed to have calmed down. Bruce looked fine, if a bit relieved, and quickly picked the boy up, carrying him on his hip.

Clint just nodded at them. He would talk to Bruce about this later, when he had the team to back him up, and when Bruce was calmer.

Clint got to the jet first, needing to direct them to a different rooftop, one that preferably had a reasonable way for the good doctor and his new charge to get up.

Steve seemed about to protest, but Clint shook his head, motioning for him to drop it. Steve gave him a look that said they'd talk about this later, and Clint nodded.

As soon as Banner and the boy were on board, Natasha took off.

Tony looked down at the boy in Bruce's arms. Kid had fallen asleep about ten minutes into the flight, and Bruce had ended up cradling the boy, as there was a significant lack of child-friendly places to sleep on the utilitarian, metal quinjet interior.

"So, we're taking in strays now?" Tony didn't even bother to keep his voice down.

Bruce glared at the billionaire, looking down pointedly at the child in his arms.

Tony continued, seemingly oblivious to the stare, "Well, if you get to have the kid, I think I should totally be allowed to have-"

The cut off of Tony's spiel took a second to notice as, most of the time, he was tuned out. When Clint and Steve looked up, they were shocked to see the billionaire standing completely still, a shocked look on his face- of which only half could be seen. Over his mouth was a strange coating of a white kind of filament.

They stood in silence a moment more, before looking to the child in Bruce's arms. Bruce's eyes were close as he held the boy close, but he was smirking quietly.

Clint finally broke the silence, "What the-"

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**Annnnnd, that's where we cut it off.**

**What do you think? Petey DOES have natural spider-silk-making abilities, I know, super non-cannon, but I've always loved the idea of him developing that power!**

**_I figure, the testing done on him amplified the abilities he recieved from his father's specially engineered spiders, not to even MENTION the not-so-little, slightly green fact that he already had super in his blood BEFORE the experimentation and spider bite. In my story, he'll be twice- if not three times- as strong, fast, agile, and will also have the ability to shoot his own webbing than he would have if he'd never been tested on. I don't know how the 'green' blood will play into his developing powers, so I guess we'll just have to see!_**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW AND FAVORITE AND FOLLOW! I'm sure you fellow authors can appreciate how much it helps to get feedback and comments on what your readers thoughts are. DON'T be afraid to share**

**!****HOMEWORK FOR MY READERS****!**

**IN FACT! Why not just comment one word? For homework today/tonight/whenever, I expect a one word review of what you thought of this chapter, or of the overall story so far. MUST BE TURNED IN BEFORE YOU CAN BEGIN THE NEXT CHAPTER. ONE WORD. WORTH 100% OF YOUR GRADE.**


	8. Chapter 3

**WhaaaAAAAT?! Updating AGAIN?**

**Alright, I didn't feel like this scene did much. It's just to move things along, but not very action-y.**

**Even so, SHIELD and the Avengers are going to start digging deeper into Peter's history- oh, boy! I guess we'll just have to see what happens!**

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Over half a day later, the team landed on SHIELD's helicarrier as it hovered over the East River, New York. Fury awaited them in the conference room to debrief them on the mission.

Bruce always found the debriefs rather boring- we looked around until we found the bad guy, we chased the bad guy, we caught up to and fought the bad guy, we brought bad guy back to be questioned. Done. That's all that needed to be said.

Deciding he had better things to do as he walked down the corridor with his teammates in front of him, Bruce took a sharp left, Peter still in his arms.

Clint, who had been walking beside him, gave him a nod. He'd cover for the man.

Bruce had to wonder why Clint seemed so… helpful, all of a sudden. He certainly wasn't like that on a regular basis. Bruce sighed, the archer was probably storing it up for another day. He had better watch his back or one of these days he'd find himself to be a certain pent-up archer's pranking outlet.

The man shivered, but not before noticing the restlessness of the child sleeping in his arms. Ugh, that was right. The child in his arms. As simple as that sounds, his arms were currently killing him. He felt like he'd been stung a thousand times by a crossover between a hornet and a jackhammer.

Luckily, Bruce found himself to be standing in front of the door that lead to his 'quarters', a room he rarely used except on the rare occasion. Even then, he'd never slept here before- a SHIELD helicarrier where every agent you pass wants to lock you up at the slightest sneeze is not an environment conducive for resting.

Bruce chuckled to himself as he finally set Peter down on the militaristic cot against the wall. Everything was, of course, screwed into the floor- or in this case, the wall, as the cot was actually a good three feet from the floor. Bruce frowned, what if Peter rolled off the side and fell? Bruce would have to have a word with… well, someone, about lowering the cot.

As Bruce was thinking this, his team was on the other side of the ship, sitting down to the debriefing.

Fury stood facing them, frowning angrily, "Where the hell is Banner?"

Natasha answered, "He went to his quarters."

"Well get him the **** in here!"

Clint exchanged looks with Natasha and Tony before answering, "Sir, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Excuse you?" Fury stared his agent down, "Barton, I don't give a damn. He played a crucial part in this mission, and I want to know what he saw in that house."

Clint coughed and continued, "Sir, Dr. Banner is currently… well, he brought back-"

"A kid," Tony answered gleefully. Anything to piss off Ol' Eyepatch, "He brought home a stray, Dad, and I think he wants to keep it."

Fury pinched his brow, and sighed, "Why the hell did he bring home a kid? I didn't _sanction_ a kidnapping!"

Natasha studied Clint, who had been keeping his head down for the majority of the meeting, "Clint," she whispered just loud enough that only he could hear her.

Clint frowned, before answering Fury, "I think the kid… well, the kid definitely has abilities. He could be a mutant. And there was a moment…" he trailed off.

Fury glared at him, as encouraging an expression as he could give.

"And," Clint continued, "I almost thought I saw the kid turn green," everyone looked up at that, "There was a moment where the boy got upset, and Bruce was trying to calm him down and… I could've sworn I saw the kid start to turn green- Hulk green… and, well- but it could've just been Bruce. I don't know. It was gone before I could get a good look."

The room was quiet as the archer finished.

Fury contemplated this new bit of information. Clint was the best pair of eyes he had among his agents, and if he thought he saw something like a boy turning Hulk green, then Fury was hesitant to doubt him, even if Clint wasn't clear on it himself. The archer was rarely wrong about what he saw.

"Well I'll be damned," Tony chuckled from across the table, "looks like Brucey found himself a baby hulk!"

* * *

**What the hell, Emma?! This is the fourth time I've gone back after posting this chapter to fix minor mistakes. Ugh, Ok, I'm done. It's perfect. For now. We're good.**

**Sorry about Fury's swearing! I did bleep it out, but I usually avoid swearing in my stories as much as possible. It just seemed like the only thing he'd say in that moment, and I couldn't take away from Fury's character. I don't feel very confident in my writing of him anyway, and I may have to rewrite his lines in this chapter. But I'll do that later.**

**Hope you liked it!**

**Ok, as many of you know, when I originally wrote the story, Tony was a sassy little baby whose daddy issues caused a lot of problems for the story. Of course, I got tired of writing that because I couldn't figure out when it would be a good time to turn whiny, bratty Tony into a beautiful princess/actual adult he is.**

**SO, we're gonna skip that, thank you. Instead, Tony is enjoying this because it's pissing off Fury, and he's been friends long enough with Bruce to see that the man needs something like this. I view my previous story and this one as parallel dimensions- similar in some way, but ultimately different as the characters choose different paths and the parallel worlds diverge. FANCY TALK, YAY!**


	9. Chapter 4

**This'll be kinda short, but I just needed filler between chapters. Hopefully this is still a good chapter, though.**

* * *

The meeting concluded not long after that. Tony kept making jabs at Fury until the man seemed to explode and walk out. Steve and Natasha noticed his twitchy hand hanging near his holster; Tony could get a little carried away sometimes.

Bruce's evening passed as he looked over a few documents on his Stark Ind. Phone- Tony made him take it. He had a few projects he'd been working on stored there along with some old ones and a few photos even; one in particular now caught his attention.

The picture was of his college graduation, and his younger self was being weighed down by the weight of his friends' arms. Left to right, he named them: Reed, Susan, Victor, Leonard*, Mary, himself, Richard, and Curt. A graduating class of pure genius. And somehow, somewhere along the line, he knew every one of them had sacrificed, and they were all gone. Actually, no, Bruce thought, it's not so much that they're gone, but that I am. I'm supposed to be dead.

Bruce stared a moment longer at the photo, before sighing quietly and looking towards the little boy on the cot, sleeping soundly. Bruce smiled slightly. Perhaps, for once, he wouldn't have to be alone.

This one, something deep inside Bruce spoke, this one is ours.

With that thought, Bruce drifted off into a dreamless sleep, completely peaceful.

The next morning…

Clint loved kids. It was something about him that was so surprising and seemingly out-of-character, anyone would've thought you were crazy to suggest it, but when Clint was around kids, it was suddenly impossible to see him /not/ liking kids. Clint's wife- the fact of which he would kill me (the author) for telling you all about- was in fact pregnant right now with their first child. Clint grinned to himself just thinking about it; they were having a boy. A little boy, his first child. They'd been arguing over names- Clint liked names like Donnie, Walker and Bowser, but those had all quickly been shot down and Laura made it clear that no baby of theirs would be named after a cartoon he watched as a kid.**

It was for these reasons that Clint found himself crawling through the vents towards Bruce's quarters to see if the kid wanted to hang out with him. He also might've been avoiding a certain eye-patched director who was currently still up-in-arms over the whole "bringing home a super-powered kid" thing. Clint rolled his eyes and snorted. Whatever.

Making his way through the vent shafts, he slid down a shoot silently, and turned one more corner. Surprisingly, the grate into Bruce's quarters was already removed and a head was poking through, looking expectantly at the archer as he made his way towards him.

Clint moved hesitantly forward; thankfully, it was the kid.

"Hey," he whispered quietly. The vents were echoey, and the last thing he wanted was to wake Bruce, who he knew would still be sleeping as the man had begun a bad habit of sleeping through the morning hours, sometimes 'til almost noon when he was especially exhausted. Trying to hold the Hulk back could be taxing at times, he imagined.

The little boy stared at him, eyes narrowed slightly.

"You remember me? We met back in Latveria. I'm Clint," the older man reached his hand out to Peter who stared at it, his face more confused than suspicious now.

Clint stared at his hand too, before saying, "Oh, you shake it. Here, lemme show-"

The boy flinched back as he reached for his hand.

Clint frowned, "Hey, bud, no worries. I'm not tryin' anything, I promise. I've got my own boy at home- well, almost. He's not 'here' yet. My wife's pregnant and…" Clint stopped himself, no need to get into it.

The boy seemed a little less suspicious now, reaching his hand farther into the vent towards Clint's. Clint took it lightly, and shook it in a handshake. The gesture soon turned into a jiggling of the little boy's arm, making the child giggle at his wiggling arm.

They both stopped for a moment as Bruce's quiet breathing in the background stuttered for a moment. Waiting a moment longer, they both looked back at each other, grinning mischievously.

Clint peeked one more time at Bruce before turning to Peter with a smirk, "Hey, do you wanna come hang out with me? It looks pretty boring in there, waiting for your- erh, waiting for Bruce to wake up. And I could show you my fort!" Clint didn't call it his fort to appeal to the child, he actually called it his fort, and very few people had seen it, except for maybe Natasha. Actually, just Natasha.

Peter frowned a moment more, studying this man's face. He had learned early on that offers of fun or anything remotely pleasant should always be met with suspicion if it came from a stranger- or anyone, really. However, Peter knew that Bruce seemed to trust this man, and had called him a friend, and Peter trusted Bruce (although, if you asked him why, he couldn't give a very clear answer on that), so in turn, Peter trusted this man.

Looking back one more time at Bruce, Peter nodded and crawled into the vent to follow Clint to his fort. He'd be back quickly, before Bruce wakes up, but he just wanted a quick peek.

Clint and his laughter could be heard echoing all through the ventilation shafts as they climbed towards their destination.

Bruce slept soundly, twitching slightly at the out of place sound. He recognized that sound, didn't he? A child? He listened closely, his mind still lucid, his eyes still shut. A child's laugh.

That thought brought Bruce back from the sea of restful black that engulfed his mind.

His eyes opened.

* * *

**NOTES: *Leonard Samson whose... part of Hulk cannon.**

**Ok, so on that list, I included Reed Richards, Susan Storm-Richards, Victor Von Doom, Leonard Samson, Mary Fitzpatrick-Parker, Richard Parker, and Curt Connors. I wanted a list of scientists that would reflect the level of Bruce's intelligence, as well as give him a few friends. The Parkers and Connors made sense, as I had planned Bruce having gone to college with the Parkers, and Connors went to the same college as Richard in cannon, so he had to be included. Samson made sense, as he was part of Hulk's cannon, and Richard I thought would be a good choice for Banner, but I knew he'd also gone to college with Susan and Victor Doom, so they had to be added.**

**I also like the idea that every scientist on this list was ultimately affected by their research, whether for better or for worse.**

**The show Clint watched as a kid was this animated tv series, COPS. It's actually kind of the best. Definitely check it out when you can. Futuristic cops fighting mob bosses. Badass.**

**I know a lot of this was definitely non-cannon, and that everything seemed kind of rushed, and that's because it was. I kinda used up my whole weekend reading and writing this story, so I got a lot of updates in. However, in the meantime, I avoided work and homework- summer quarter, yay! So, now that it's the week, I might not be able to update as often as these last few days. Bear with me here, and I'll try my best to keep updating daily. Hopefully. Without somehow sacrificing my education and finances in the meantime. Got it.**

**Ok, but seriously, I know this was a little rushed, but I wanted to give you something to hold you guys over. I'm kind of just drawing this out until we get to the fun stuff!**

**Look for updates! Throw me a bone wrapped in a review! It adds flavoring. Thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 5

**BEFORE YOU START READING THIS CHAPTER: Be aware, I have zero experience with 5-year-olds. The only children I ever get to spend time with are either 2- and 3-year-olds or in middle school, so this... is what I came up with. I have a really bad feeling that Peter's character is really flippy-floppy, SO BE FOREWARMED... (what.)**

**Peter is not an accurate representation of his age group.**

**That said, enjoy.**

**P.S. STAY 'TIL THE END FOR A SPECIAL, FUN STORY!**

* * *

It was probably only 10 minutes later that Peter found himself crawling out into a large cylindrical cooling vent. The archer and the boy stood on a grate which covered the vent's circumference except for one spot where a ladder led down, and below them was a drop of likely over fifty feet. The ladder led down the whole vent, smaller vent openings every few feet down beside it.

Sitting on the grate was a well-worn La-Z-Boy and a rolled up sleeping bag. Peter looked around in awe, as Clint sat down comfortably in his chair- how he got a full-sized La-Z-Boy recliner through the tiny vents on the _helicarrier_ without Fury noticing, even the author doesn't know. Actually, she has some idea, but it involves a lot of time spent climbing the aforementioned ladder to go pick up fallen screws and a lot of cursing on Clint's part, so that story's better left for another time.

Peter and Clint spent the next half hour thoroughly enjoying themselves and showing off their talents- Clint nearly fell out of his chair when Peter jumped onto the wall and stood sideways. He hadn't been there when Peter had stuck to walls back in Latveria.

When it was finally decided between them that Peter should probably be heading back, they began to climb their way back through the vents towards Bruce's room.

Clint kept grabbing Peter's socked foot and tickling him, causing the little boy to giggle uncontrollably and squirm away. Clint laughed and declared tickling to be Peter's one weakness.

The two soon found their way back to the room, but when they peeked in, Bruce was gone and the door… was slightly bent.

Peter looked up at Clint, suddenly fearful. Clint watched as Peter's eyes began to turn green as the boy became distraught.

Bruce was so nice and Peter had felt… like Bruce understood him. Because Bruce's eyes turned green like his, and that meant he was like Peter, wasn't he?

Clint knelt down next to the boy, "Hey, hey," he said quietly, holding the boy gently, fragilely, around the shoulders, "What's the matter, kid? Why are you upset?" Clint watched as the veins in the boys neck turned slightly green and seemed to grow down towards his arm and chest; it made the archer nervous, but he was crossing his fingers that he might be able to snap the kid out of it.

Peter sniffled, looking up, "Bru-ce was- so- _nice_ and- he said- he said…" Peter took gulping breaths in-between each word, giving little sobs which seemed to accelerate the traveling green veins. Clint watched as the boy's face and neck began to show distinct green blotches.

"Hey, Peter," Clint kept one hand on the boy's shoulder, using the other to push the boy's hair out of his eyes. He noted randomly that the child really needed a haircut, "Peter, do you know who Bruce is?"

The little boy's teary green eyes looked up at him, flickering between green and light brown; he shook his head.

"Bruce is the Hulk," he continued, hoping Bruce wouldn't kill him for telling the kid. The man was kind of touchy about it, "I think he's got his own name for it, but Bruce is the Hulk, he's a superhero," Peter's eyes widened at that, "Yeah, he is, and do know what makes him even more special?"

The boy shook his head once more, and Clint watched in relief as the green seemed to fade, at least the tiniest bit.

"The Hulk is invincible," Clint said in an excited voice.

Peter wrinkled his nose- in a rather adorable manner- clearly having never heard the word.

"Uh," Clint floundered a second, "Invincible is like- it's when you can't get hurt by anything or anyone. Nobody can hurt Bruce, and if they try, he'd just turn into the Hulk, no problem."

"He turns into 'im?" Peter asked confused.

"Yeah, umh, so Bruce isn't the Hulk all the time, but he can turn into the Hulk when he's in danger or when he's upset."

"What does the Hulk look like?"

"Well," Clint continued in a faux serious voice, "The Hulk is really big and fat, he's got rainbow hair," Peter giggled at that, "and he's completely pink. He wears a tutu and rainbow boots, and he, uhm, he… smells like oranges," Clint nodded his head as the boy sniggered, the green receding almost completely, "yep, oranges and cupcakes."

Peter giggled out, "Noooo."

"No? Then what do you think the Hulk looks like?" Clint asked, finally breaking out into a mischievous grin.

Peter laughter subsided as he began to think, "I think he's big and green and really strong and happy."

Clint blinked at Peter's description, "Why do you think he's happy?"

Peter looked back at Clint, "Because Bruce is happy," he said it so simply, with childlike naivety.

"Huh," Clint shrugged, "Well, I don't know if I've ever seen the Hulk happy before. Bruce only becomes the Hulk when he's feeling a really strong emotion, like sadness or anger," Clint explained.

Peter frowned, taking this new information in, "But he _did_ look happy! When his eyes turned green!" he protested.

Clint didn't feel like trying to calm the child down again, so he compromised, "Maybe he was, and you were the lucky person who got to see it," Clint smiled at him.

Peter looked at the door, "But where is he?" he looked forlornly at the dark corridor, his eyes flickering.

Clint frowned as well; the bent door was not a good sign, "How about we go look for him? He must've woken up and gone looking for you, so maybe if we go looking for him, he'll find us faster."

Peter smiled at this plan and began tugging Clint's arm, nearly dragging the man out the door.

It would've struck Clint as funny if not for the flashing red lights that greeted them in the corridor. Peter stopped to look at the light, glancing up at the archer questioningly.

"The red light means that the ship is on alert. Maybe your dad is with the others fighting a supervillain," Clint suggested.

Peter's frown appeared once more.

The two made their way through the corridors until they came out onto the bridge where everyone seemed to be running around, pacing or intensely staring at a screen. Orders were being called out and a man in a big, black leather coat was standing near the middle of the bridge in front of a half circle of screens. He frowned the deepest, Peter wanted to tell him what Ol' Babba from the market had said, that if he wasn't careful his face would stick that way.

The man seemed to sense them as soon as they entered, and he was glaring machine guns and machetes at them. Clint tensed beside him.

Peter's ears picked up Clint's muttering, 'I'm dead."

"BARTON! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE YOU-"

Clint quickly covered Peter's ears, trying his best to block out the Pirate's rather uncouth speech.

Halfway through chewing the man out, the one-eyed man seemed to finally notice the boy, "All this trouble for a half pint. Damn Banner and his soft spot," he turned back to his screens.

Peter's ears were finally uncovered, and the Pirate began speaking again, "I've already sent the team out after him. While you were hiding out wherever the hell you were with the kid, Banner panicked and started on a rampage looking for the boy. Thanks to you, I have multiple Hulk-sized punctures throughout the ship, and a situation down on the streets of Manhattan. Get moving, archer, or I swear-"

Clint was already picking Peter up, putting the boy on his back and headed out the door to grab his weapons.

"Hold on, Barton, where do you think you're taking the kid?!"

He turned around, "The Hulk wants his small fry back, we give him back. Bruce just panicked over a missing child, he's not gonna hurt the kid," before anyone could argue Clint was jogging down the corridor, a small boy nearly choking him with the death grip 'round his throat.

"Could you loosen up a bit, Petey? I can't feel my airways," the little boy's hands disappeared and Clint felt them both on his shoulders- the boy was sticking to him now, which happens to be the weirdest feeling in Clint's humble opinion.

They got to the hangar where Clint jogged over quickly to a small area that appeared to be a workshop of sorts.

In the center of the workshop was a large something covered in a dirty canvas.

"Here she is," Clint let Peter down, approaching the canvas and pulling it off with a bit of flare, "My baby."

Underneath the sheet was a weird looking bike, like a motorcycle, but it didn't have any wheels. Peter looked up at Clint, slightly annoyed. He was wasting his time playing jokes. Weren't they supposed to be going to calm the Hulk down?

"This," Clint hadn't noticed Peter's glare, his eyes having been entirely glued to the bike, "is my sky-cycle*," the archer quickly pulled his quiver around his body, having had to move it for Peter to fit comfortably against his back.

Hopping onto the bike, Clint looked up to the boy who hadn't moved yet, "Come on, we don't have all day, kid."

Peter huffed but hopped onto the bike; obviously it had to work _somehow _or else Clint would have already said something. Maybe.

Clint pressed something near the front of the bike, but Peter couldn't tell what, seeing as how he was sitting behind the archer.

The bike birred to life underneath them, and… lifted.

It was a hoverbike.

As Clint maneuvered the bike towards the open hangar doors, the bike turned off and dropped to the ground suddenly, with a rather jarring crash.

Clint cursed a bit, but Peter didn't really understand what the words meant. Maybe he'd ask Bruce later.

The bike started again, and Clint laughed nervously, "Uh, yeah, well, my original bike got busted up in our last battle, so my friend Latham made me this new one. He hasn't taken it for a test run just yet, so this'll… have to be the test run, I guess. Just… hang on tight."

Peter nodded his head against Clint's back and the two flew off, out the hangar doors and down towards the city streets a couple hundred feet below.

They heard a roar coming from Queens. Peter had two thoughts, almost simultaneously; the Hulk was really loud and really angry.

* * *

**STORY TIME: WHY I'M SO FRIGGIN LATE ON THE FRIGGIN UPDATE**

**I AM NOT BEHOMIC- BALEMIC- BALSAMIC, WHATEVER. WAIT, NO, ACTUALLY, THAT'S NOT IT EVEN IT... ... ... WHATEVER.**

**I JUST SPEND A LARGE MAJORITY OF MY TIME WHOLED UP IN MY ROOM WITHOUT FOOD, WATER OR AIR SOMETIMES. THAT'S WHY I TEND TO WHEEZE WHEN I'M LAUGHING AT VANOSS AND MINILOOD AND DAITHI AND THEIR ANTICS.**

**SO, AS IT HAPPENS THAT I'M TAKING A MATH CLASS THIS SUMMER TO FINISH OUT MY AA DEGREE (I'M GONNA WORK FOR TRIPLE A, BUT I NEED TO COLLECT THE FIRST TWO BEFORE THEY HIRE ME), I HAD TO STUDY FOR MY MATH TEST, WHICH WAS SUPPOSED TO TAKE PLACE ON THURSDAY.**

**FUN FACT: LACK OF FOOD, WATER, AND SLEEP COMBINED WITH THE FIGHT-0R-FLIGHT SENSATION YOU GET BEFORE A TEST FORM TO CREATE THE WORST TERMINATOR TRANSFORMER LEO DECAPRIO CREATURE YOU COULD EVER IMAGINE...**

**Basically, I fainted on Thursday.**

**And spent the whole weekend recovering from dehydration and lack of nutrition- who needs sleep?! That was not included in this recovery process, except for the tiny nap I took where I was no longer standing and paramedics were involved.**

**Anyhoo, I'm crazy and a little self-destructive, so this story took a bit to get out. Sorry about that!**

**I'm taking the test tomorrow, so wish me! Luɔk!¡!**


	11. Chapter 6

**Soooo... a few things about this chapter:**

**1) I'm a little... detailed in my location choices. All the places I chose to have the Avengers in this chapter are real places in Queens, NY, specifically around Forest Hills where Peter's aunt and uncle were alleged to have lived. I thought it appropriate to use that area since it's _close to home_.**

**2) I tried to add a bit of old-fashioned slang into Steve's speech. He _did_ grow up on the streets of Brooklyn afterall. APPRECIATE MY EFFORT.**

**3) If you were paying attention- as I'm sure all of you were- you would have realized that nobody has realized Bruce and Peter's... connection, yet. Well, I don't know, maybe Bruce and Peter subconsciously knew, and Clint and a few others might've been suspicious of the whole 'also turns green' thing, but nobody had actually SAID it yet, or figured out that Peter's last name is Parker (for now TEEE-FRICKIN-HEEE).**

**ENJOY, MY FELLOW...s. Who are you people, actually? Aren't you called something based off of some version of my username, or a cute nickname that has to do with the story? How would you like to be called? Fellow Beauts? Fellow Fistys- no, no nononononono. That was stupid, nevermuund. Ughh, guys **_NAME YOURSELVES PLEASE._** I HAVE NO BRAIN FOR SHTUFF. SO YOUS GUYS GOTTA DO IT. DANKE SCHON DANKE YOU**

* * *

"Watch out!" a hulk-sized fistful of concrete flew past Steve's ear, the super soldier moving out of the way just in time. The Hulk roared a few yards away, circling to watch his teammates who had him surrounded in the middle of the street. The street was completely empty of people, cars abandoned and pushed to the sides of the impromptu battlefield. A few were actually imbedded into the sides of nearby building where Hulk had thrown them not moments before.

Steve huffed, for pete's sake, where was Peter? If the Hulk was going to flip his wig every time the boy disappeared for a bit, the city would be completely demolished within the year. When Steve was a kid, he and Bucky would disappear for hours at a time, and his mother wouldn't have a clue where the two went or what sort of cahoots they got into.

Another piece of concrete whistled through the air, barely giving Steve time to jump out from behind the car, before the thing flipped with the impact.

The battle continued with Tony being thrown into the air and batted down the street, and the Black Widow receiving a pretty bad gash and beating to her leg. She would live, but she was- mostly- down for the count. Steve ordered her onto the quinjet to try finding more tranq darts. They didn't seem to even slow him down, but it was something at least.

Just then, Steve heard the whrrr of one of SHIELD's jets approaching. Looking briefly away from the roaring giant, he spotted a hover-bike headed towards them, with Clint and… Peter, on it.

Steve cursed, bringing a kid into a fight was _bad_. Oh, he was going to kick Clint to kingdom come-

The Hulk roared again, having spotted the hover-bike as well. The green giant made his way towards the bike, jump onto- and completely destroying- the side of the building and bypassing Steve altogether. He was within grabbing distance when Steve finally ran into range.

No no no no, Steve kept saying in his head, The Hulk was going to _kill_ them. Steve threw his shield, whacking the Hulk in the face, causing the creature to pause in outrage, but only for a moment.

Clint barely had time to move before a giant green fist reached out and brushed the side of the bike. Steve sighed in relief as they maneuvered out of the Hulk's grasp- but what happened next completely stopped Steve's heart.

Peter jumped.

The little boy launched himself off the bike, his face set as he spring boarded towards the Hulk's still outstretched arm and latched on.

The Hulk quickly tucked the boy against his side, roaring his fury at the two avengers and launching himself up the side of the building towards the roof. Clint swooped down to give Steve a lift before they both headed after the Hulk and his new hostage.

"Tony, Nat, he's got Peter and he's headed for the roof. I think he's making a run for it. We've got to get that kid out of here before the Hulk squashes him!" Clint called into the comms.

Tony swore, "Guys, I think I'm done for this fight. My flight stabilizers are completely shot and I'm losing power. Calling Happy for a ride ba-"

"-I've got a lock on them. They're headed for Forest Park. We can cut them off at the train yard," Nat spoke over Tony's last few words.

"We've got to hurry. Peter doesn't weigh over 40lb. and has all the makings of a twig," Clint huffed, "Our big green friend here is going to break him faster than a f-"

"Nat, you're on our twenty," Steve smacked Clint upside the head, "Tony, get there when you can and keep your comm unit in. Let's move out!"

The sky-cycle glided through the air, barely catching a glimpse of green before another high rise* got in the way.

Finally, they were out with a more visible line of sight, and unfortunately with a lot more civilians.

The Hulk loped down the highway with cars pulling out of his way fast. A surprisingly limited trail of destruction followed him, but he wasn't slowing down.

The Avengers followed their teammate and his charge all the way to the mostly empty parking lot of Home Depot.

The Hulk stiffened, watching as he was once again surrounded.

The team stopped, circling the Hulk in a practiced formation, "Dr. Banner, please calm down," Steve began.

The Hulk roared, charging a bit, but holding back, his arm held protectively around the boy. Steve stared at Peter, trying to see his face, before glancing at Clint. They were about to move in when the boy shifted, causing the Hulk to pause.

Peter tentatively climbed up the Hulk's shoulder, sitting comfortably on by the giant's ear. He stared around, gathering the situation the group was in- before he began to giggle.

Steve was so baffled, he couldn't even think how to react.

Clint's answering, "B-uhhh…" as he lifted his pointer finger, as though he had a question, concurred with Steve's confusion.

The boy's laughter grew, and it was so adorable and free that a smile tugged at Steve's lips. The sound of his giggles were so out-of-place and mollifying in the moment, Steve wondered if the boy wouldn't laugh the Hulk back into Bruce Banner.

Which is why Steve wasn't surprised when the Hulk began to shift, shrink, and fade into a less green color.

Bruce Banner laughed a bit more before his expression grew serious, and he stared at the little boy beside him, deep in thought. Peter's giggling still caused little tremors of laughter to shake his body, like tiny seizures.

Steve approached the pair, "Hey, Banner. We alright?"

Bruce looked up, almost surprised to see his friend, before his expression grew sad, resigned, "How bad was it this time?"

Steve looked over at Clint, who stood nearby, Natasha not far behind. The two exchanged grimaces, it was always so hard for Bruce after a fight. Unlike his teammates who were in control of themselves during a fight and could have a choice in what destruction they created- if any- and who they hurt- hopefully only the baddies- Bruce could only cross his fingers and hope that the Hulk would aim his destructive abilities in the _wanted_ direction.

Natasha answered, "Honestly, Bruce, you've done worse. The part of Queens we started in probably had the worst damage, but the big guy seemed to be taking some care this time around."

Bruce frowned, looking up as if to question her further, before a tugging at his arm caught his attention.

Peter stared up at him with big eyes, an awed expression on his face, "You're just like me. You're green, too! Does that mean I'm not an alien?"

Bruce gaped out the boy, "An alien?"

"I saw you when you got me fr-from 'veri," Peter gulped in air as he rushed through, "and, yeah, you had green eyes then, but now you're all big and green too! Which is so COOL!" Peter was practically jumping up and down from his seat on the cement.

Steve answered, "Peter, why did you think you were… are you… like Bruce?" Steve stared at the boy in confusion. Nobody but Clint had really seen Peter's slight transformation back in Latveria.

They all heard the archer's mentioning of it back during the briefing, but hearing this from the boy himself was still… dumbfounding.

"Yep!" Peter answered cheerfully, "Wanna see?"

"No!" "Please, no." "No, no thank you."

Bruce stared at Peter, taking in the boy's features most specifically. So familiar… so…

Bruce stood abruptly. No… no, he… when could he have… His eyes widened, Mary.

Staring down at the boy once more, he said one word, "Parker."

The boy's head shot up, fast enough that Steve worried it might snap off.

The boy and the doctor stared at each other as though they had never seen each other before.

"You're Richard's… Mary's boy," Bruce said quietly, almost whispering it, "You're… my…"

* * *

**...OOPS. dID i DO tHAt? **


	12. Chapter 7

**OK! I'm gonna answer a few of your guy's comments:**

**I am Misty N: Hey, don't judge my cliffhanging skillz! I learned from the best, Cliff Hanger from 'Between the Lions' on PBS.**

**animangel: We already talked about the Hungarian thing, but THANKS AGAIN! I appreciate any help you can give in a hopefully _less_ awful translation. I mean, I knew it would be bad, because honestly Google translate is only helpful if you already _know_ the language you're looking up, but that's all I had, so I'd be really thankful for your help!**

**EowynPevensie90: Thanks for the support! I appreciate that, and yes, I'm feeling much better now. Also, I read every review for my stories, and I noticed you review a lot, so thank you so much for the awesome support!**

**Guest: I know this was all the way back in chapter 7, but somebody made a comment on Peter's strength and senses always being undervalued in other stories, or however you wanna put it. I totally know what you mean, and I'm hoping to capitalize on that in later chapters, but I don't want to give too much away so, thanks for the review and keep reading to see what happens!**

* * *

Banner had a kid. Banner had a super-powered kid. A doubly-super-powered kid, with both the abilities of a spider… and the Hulk.

Steve stared unseeingly as he sat at the kitchen counter in Avengers Tower. They had gotten home hours ago, everyone exhausted and quiet.

I mean, it's not like they didn't all see it coming. When Clint had said the boy turned green, everyone had their suspicions, especially with the way Bruce had reacted when he'd found the boy.

Steve thought that everyone, Bruce included, felt the same way now, though. It hadn't been said yet, nobody had suggested it, that Peter might be the… might be Banner's son. If he had just been the man's child, that would be one thing, but the boy turned green, too. The idea that the Hulk had a son, it just seemed so absurd. It _sounded_ absurd.

Steve heard him before he had even entered the room, but didn't move to acknowledge Tony until the man turned on the chainsaw.

Steve whirled around, "Tony, what in the-?!"

Tony grinned, revving the chainsaw once more before putting it down, "Gotcha! I finally surprised you! Ha!"

Steve sighed, exasperated, "You only surprised me when you turned on the chainsaw, but I heard you all the way down the hall."

Tony pouted, "Whaaat?! Auh, Cap, couldn't you have given me just this one?"

Steve stared blankly back, before his countenance turned concerned, "How's he doing?" he asked quietly.

Tony frowned, looking in the direction of Bruce's bedroom down the hall, "I don't know, he's been kinda out of it. I don't get why though," Tony moved towards the liquor cabinet, taking out a bottle and glass, "He just found out he had a kid. I mean, I know _I_ would rather die in a hole, but-"

"-Think about it," Steve brushed over Tony's comment, "Bruce's worst nightmare has come true. Not only has his failed experiment created another Hulk, but his own child now has to deal with the demons he's been fighting for so long. In his eyes, he did that to his own son. Wouldn't you feel depressed to have such a legacy?"

Tony stared at Steve for a moment, before looking down at the glass of liquor in his hand, swirling around the liquid and watching its movements.

"I can imagine, I guess," he answered quietly.

Steve stared at the glass as well, suddenly remembering what Tony had told him, one especially drunken night, about Howard- or the Howard that Tony grew up with. The harsh, drunken soul Tony had called father and Steve's brilliant friend from back in the day were two very different people.

Tony sucked in a breath of air, as if he had been drowning in his memories, and cracked a somewhat forced smile, "Right, well, we need to figure out a way to get him out of his funk, and I think a boy's night out would be just the thing!"

Steve frowned, "Tony, I don't think Bruce would like tha-"

"CLINT! Get in here! JARVIS, where's Clint? Send him in here. And get Bruce, too. Tell him it's urgent," the billionaire was practically vibrating, he was so excited.

"Tony, that's not-" Steve tried again.

"-What happened? JARVIS said it was urgent," Bruce walked in, Clint right behind him.

Looking the man over, Steve winced. Banner looked pale and slumped, as if the whole world bared down on his shoulders.

"And why is there a chainsaw on the kitchen counter?" Clint asked, confused.

"We're going out- undercover!- on an important totally SHIELD-sanctioned mission. A totally, very serious matter, and it requires all of us to go, so let's head out!" Tony marched towards the elevator, completely ignoring his teammates' protests of confusion.

"Tony-"

"Wait, then where's Thor and Nat-"

"I didn't get any notice from SHIELD about a-"

Tony was seemingly too far away from the other three to hear, but called loudly from the elevator, "Meet me on 7th Ave in Midtown in 20 minutes! JARVIS will give you the address! DON'T BE-" his last words were cut off by the closing doors.

The kitchen filled with silence.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

Bruce sighed, "We're going to a club, aren't we?"

Steve nodded, "Tony thought it might… get you out of your…funk."

Bruce took a calming breath, "Yeah, I… expected as much. Tony took me clubbing when we had thought that Reed, Susan and Victor had been killed in that space station accident last year. It's alright, I could use a drink, I guess."

The three of them headed towards the elevator, only to be stopped as a small figure walked down the hallway towards them.

Clad in a pair of SHIELD issued child's pajama pants and an old t-shirt of Bruce's, and dragging a throw blanket behind him, the little boy was the picture of adorableness. Peter rubbed his eyes, shuffling sleepily towards Bruce.

The boy didn't let go of Bruce 'til he had finally fallen asleep, and had slumbered peacefully in the man's arms up until a few minutes ago.

"Hey, hey," Bruce said gently, kneeling down, "What are you doing up, Buddy? It's..." he looked around for a clock as he had no watch, "It's really late, Peter, you should be in bed."

The little boy tugged at Bruce's hand and looked down, mumbling something.

"What's that?" Bruce asked kindly, before smiling, "You can't sleep. Alright, I'll tuck you in. It's too late for us adults to be up either."

Looking up at Clint and Steve, Bruce's tired smile turned pleading.

Clint chuffed a laugh, "We'll cover for you. But you owe us, Banner. Babysitting Tony is not my idea of a night on the town," the man walked into the elevator.

Steve merely smiled at Peter and nodded his head, "Get some sleep, Doc."

Bruce picked Peter up and carried him back to their shared room.

Tony had plans in the works for each Avenger to have their own floor with their own individual bathrooms, kitchens, and any other necessities. This idea came about after Thor's snoring almost caused Bruce to Hulk out and Clint slipped a few laxatives into Tony's coffee after he left his dirty underwear on the couch. It was a needed change; however, in the meantime, Bruce and Peter shared a room on the main floor across from Steve and in between Tony and Natasha.

Bruce set the boy down on the bed, shifting him into his nicely formed pillow nest and laying down beside him. The boy curled into his side, latching onto him like a lifeline. He was already fast asleep, breathing softly and quietly.

Bruce watched the child, his child. He was so perfect, completely at peace and happy to be with Bruce. The boy was unmarred, perfect actually, except for the half of his blood that was contaminated with gamma radiation. Bruce's blood.

Bruce felt his emotions boil up within him, even as he shoved them down, trying to contain the green that was most likely clouding his eyes and tinting his skin. He had done this to his own son, given his child the curse of the Other Guy.

A voice in Bruce's head whispered to him, that may have been true, but the boy seemed fine. He didn't seem affected by the radiation, not like Bruce. It was almost as if the merging of genes and whatever else had been introduced to the boy's system had balanced out the monster gene. This lead Bruce's mind to a whole new flurry of thoughts.

That's right, my son's been experimented on, Bruce remembered.

The medical tests that had been run on Peter not long after they'd first gotten to the helicarrier had shown signs of experimentation; scarring from where the needles had pricked him numerous times, chemicals in his system that were often used in animal experimentation, adaptions to the boy's anatomy that were known reactions to a number of illegal steroids. Just the thought of somebody hurting his son- and how could Mary have let that happen? Or Richard? Did they know about it? Were they even a part of it? What all was done to Peter? Would there be any residual effects, anything that could ultimately harm the boy? And the child's powers? What all could he do? Would he develop more abilities as he grew older?

Bruce's head spun with all the thoughts, he thought he might be sick. A tug from Bruce's side caught his attention once more, as a tiny hand had wrapped itself in the man's shirt.

Peter appeared to be having a bad dream. Bruce held him closer, humming an aimless tune to calm the boy down.

None of that mattered, at least not right now. Bruce was exhausted after today, and he just needed to sleep.

Closing his eyes, the man quickly slipped into a blissfully dreamless sleep, not to awaken until the next morning.

* * *

**I know, I know, not very interesting, but I needed a change of scenery and I also wanted to make a few points about how much of a big deal this is for Bruce.**

**I have a feeling that I might have gone a little overboard with his response to it and everything, but I figure that Bruce is a pretty emotional guy, and he's had to deal with a lot of bad stuff in his life. If he wants to get a little emotional about this, he is perfectly within his rights to do so!**

**I do hope you liked this chapter though! A little character development, and more to follow soon!**

**HAVE A NICE NIGHT, MY FELLOW NOCTURNALS!**


	13. Chapter 8

**I would have updated last night, but I LEGITIMATELY got distracted by pie.**

**Lemon meringue, to be specific. That stuff is my ambrosia, I swear.**

**BTW, VERY IMPORTANT: We've almost reached 1,000 visitors. 1,000. Visitors. I'm totes gonna do something for you guys when we reach it, which means that you should probably expect something fun by tomorrow!**

**Keep on the lookout!**

* * *

The next few weeks passed by quickly in the Tower. The team soon learned that raising a little boy, super-powered or otherwise, was a challenge.

Clint thought back to a few days ago when the team had been discussing how hard it was to keep Peter in check when Bruce wasn't around. Tony had complained that the little rascal could climb walls, and was _not_ afraid to play dirty.

The man was currently cleaning webbing out of Dum-E's joints after he had enlisted the robot's help in trying to get Peter down from the ceiling of his lab the day before. The boy had simply laughed, giggling maniacally as Tony tried everything from (empty) threats to a net shot from a mini cannon. That fiasco didn't end well, and Bruce came back from the store to find Tony hiding in his room, unwilling to come out, and the air smelling faintly of burnt hair.

Suffice it to say, only Cap or Clint was asked to watch Peter from then on.

It wasn't that Peter was a bad kid, necessarily. He really did love being there with them all, Clint could tell. The kid reminded him of himself; Clint's childhood had been pretty screwed up too, but he'd still managed to find his way to this… this home for misfits, he guessed one might call it. Not that he'd ever say that out loud. Ever. Tony would hold that over his head for all of eternity.

Thinking about it, Clint was pretty sure every single person on the team had the screwiest past imaginable. His own parents dead and his brother turning on him; Cap's dad was said to have walked out on his mom and him when he was a toddler, and the man's mother died some time during his teens; Natasha's past was hidden away in the Red Room, and that was enough to know that she probably had the _most_ messed up childhood; Tony's father was a workaholic and his parents both died in a car accident when they were said to have been hit by a drunk driver, and Bruce's father, an alcoholic, abused Banner when he was a boy and killed his mother. Thor, who hadn't been around in months, well, the Battle of New York was the only thing that needed to be said about _his_ family problems.

Ugh, it was all kind of depressing, Clint had to admit. Besides, things had been good for all of them lately.

There hadn't been a group mission since Latveria, and any individual or partner assignments were small reconnaissance trips or something just as boring and monotonous. So, everyone had had time to really get to know Peter.

The boy may have been a little troublesome sometimes, but he was a good kid, honestly. He was brilliant, and once Tony could get the boy to sit down and could show him how to do certain things in the lab, the boy became a completely different person. He basically fell in love with science and technology and whatever else Tony and Bruce were introducing him to. Clint didn't care, really, as long as the boy still wanted to hang out with him in the gym after lunch, or go pull pranks on unsuspecting interns in the morning, then he was happy.

In fact, that's what Clint and Peter were currently doing. While it may look as though Clint was innocently flicking through the channels, stopping when it reached the Discovery channel documentary on the platypus, he was definitely not paying attention to Morgan Freeman's monologue while the platypus swam- andohmygoodnessthatisfreakingadorable.

Clint watched the platypus as it swam over to the cameraman's arm and nibbled at his fingers. The scene changed to a handler holding the platypus as they tickled its belly.

"So cuuute…" Clint said aloud.

"_Clint_?" a voice said over the comm in his ear.

"Uh, I'm here. Sorry, just, uh, playing up my cover," he whispered quietly under his breath. If he was less practiced in keeping his poker face, he might've colored embarrassed, but he totally didn't. _Totally_.

"_Oh, ok_," Peter answered, "_I'm in position. You just gotta tell me when_!" the boy was excited, his giddiness undeniably clear in his voice.

Clint grinned mischievously, "Alright, are the targets in position?"

"_Yeah_."

"Release on my count," Clint looked at his watch surreptitiously, "three, two, release!"

A moment later, screams could be heard through the comm, along with Peter's muffled giggling.

Clint's face lit up in a triumphant, almost evil grin, but he quickly schooled his features as Nat came 'round the corner… holding an earbud. Oops.

"Barton," she said evenly. She never called him that unless he was in trouble, and the blank, unimpressed look on her face spelled trouble.

"Nat, what brings you here? Did you want to watch something? Sorry, my platypus documentary isn't over for another 20 minutes," he answered innocently.

He knew he was grasping at straws with this- Nat could always tell when he was lying or faking it, and she'd probably already heard his voice over the comm piece- but he'd be damned if he didn't try to wiggle his way out of this. It was kind of his thing, getting out of trouble.

"Where's Peter? I thought you were supposed to be watching him," she said quietly, clearly not amused by this eschewal.

"He's in the bathroom," Clint answered evenly. He spoke a little louder, "He said he'd be right back."

A scuffling noise could be heard over the comms, and Peter appeared not a moment later, walking in with a couple of tiny black spiders sitting comfortably on his shoulder.

Nat's arm blocked the boy from walking past, and her hand opened up to show her comm piece. She gestured for the boy to hand his over, and he sheepishly dug into his pocket, dropping the earbud into her open palm.

The woman then grabbed onto Peter's hand, "If you don't mind, I'm going to take Peter out for a bit. We'll be back," she dragged Peter towards the elevator, the boy's face pleading with Clint to save him.

Clint watched sadly as the poor kid began to struggle, his little spider friends falling off with his erratic movements, but he shook his head. Peter shouldn't even bother, once Nat had set her mind on something, she'd see it done.

"Oh, and Clint," Nat turned around, "I'll be calling Laura later for a chat. It's been too long."

Clint paled as he watched the doors of the elevator close behind the pair. Oh, he was so screwed.

As for Peter, the boy's senses were going off all over the place.

He knew Natasha wouldn't hurt him, his sense were telling him she had no intentions of harming him, but he also hadn't spent any time with her yet. He didn't know her, and the other seemed to be really afraid of her, and that told Peter that he needed to be afraid of her.

The boy quaked a bit, when they reached the parking garage level, and Natasha still hadn't let go of his hand.

She pulled Peter over to a random black convertible- in a long line of other black convertibles- and opened the door for Peter to get in.

He looked at her, confused. Bruce- no, Peter's mind paused, he was Peter's daddy, wasn't he? So, he was Daddy now. And, Peter continued, Daddy always used the car that had a car seat in it when they went places, but this car didn't have a car seat.

Natasha didn't bother asking about Peter's hesitation, and merely picked the boy up, placing him in the back seat, and pressing something on the side of the seat cushion before closing the door.

As soon as the door shut, Peter felt the seat move oddly, and all of a sudden it shifted slightly, the cushion underneath and behind him forming to make a car seat for him. A seat belt wrapped itself around him, the two clasp pieces jumping together like magnets.

Natasha hopped into the driver's seat and started the car, pulling out of the parking spot and towards the exit. She still hadn't said a word to Peter.

They drove through New York city traffic sleekly; pulling in and out between cars with a practiced ease. Finally, Natasha pulled them onto the freeway and the drove for 10 minutes before Natasha said anything.

Her voice caught Peter by surprise after sitting in silence for so long, "Do you like animals?"

Peter answered, confused, "Yes, I like lots of animals…"

"What's your favorite?" she asked a moment later.

Peter thought, "Dinosaurs," because nothing could beat dinosaurs. They were just so awesome!

Natasha's lips quirked up slightly before she asked, "What about horses?"

Peter's nose wrinkled as he tried to think whether he liked horses or not. Where had he seen horses?

Peter remembered, vaguely, back in Latveria when he had snuck into a café on an especially cold morning, blending into the back of the tiny building. The owner was busy in the back, yelling at his son about something, but Peter hadn't really been paying attention. Instead, his eyes were glued to the tiny, old tv that was hanging precariously on the wall above the counter, a black and white tv show with men riding horses and racing across a desert background playing on the screen. They were shooting at some other guys and racing through a canyon. One of the men on the horse fell off as he got shot.

Peter had been so enthralled, he'd hardly noticed when the enraged café owner came back inside and started towards him. Peter had quickly slipped out of the shop, running down an alleyway to safety, but he'd gotten a good wallop to the back of the head for his troubles.

Coming back to himself, Peter saw Natasha staring at him in the rearview mirror.

"You okay, kiddo?" her voice had the tiniest hint of concern.

Peter nodded, "I guess I like horses."

She nodded, and they continued on in silence. Peter soon fell asleep, lulled by the hum of the engine and the sound of traffic.

* * *

**Ok, so yeah, Natasha kind of just kidnapped Peter for the rest of the day. The place they're going is only a two hours drive outside of New York City.**

**IMPORTANT: (kinda)**

**2) Peter has yet to be babysat or even interact really with Natasha, so I figure he might be a little wary of her. Nat has never spoken to Peter, or even looked at him (at least to Peter's knowledge) so he doesn't really like her yet... that'll change.**

**3) I actually wrote out a whole _psychological profile_ on Peter based on the traumas he's suffered, and the result... not so good. I didn't like that at all, so we're just gonna ignore all that! I did, however, make Peter a little troublesome, because let's face it- he's a kid with superpowers.**

**4) Bruce is currently on a mission- the Hulk not being involved. He was asked to help a SHIELD base in Costa Verde, and I may go into that later.**

**Where do you think she's taking him? Comment your guesses if you have any, but keep in mind that Nat wouldn't take Peter just _anywhere_...**

**UGH! I also have a two terrible ideas in mind that I kind of want to implement. We will discuss this further next chapter, or maybe never, and I'll just let them happen and you guys'll hate me for being so cruel. I don't know yet, we'll just have to wait and see.**


	14. Chapter 9

**I promised you guys that when we reached 1000 visitors, I'd do something special, and we surpassed that at some point yesterday! Exciting! Ok, so I'll be updating both here, and if you're following my other one-shots story, Jolly Green Giant and Son, I'll be updating that as well!**

**Natasha is a _bit_ OC in this chapter, but it might make more sense later...**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Hey… hey Peter, wake up, kiddo."

Peter groaned in protest, opening his eyes to find Natasha gently unbuckling his seat belt and lifting him out. She was so nice and gentle about it, and it was so warm out, Peter couldn't help but snuggle into her side.

"C'mon, Peter, we're here. I want you to meet someone," Natasha said quietly, although she didn't attempt to put him down.

A pleasant smell reached Peter and he sniffed at the air, trying to think of what it was.

"It's lunchtime, so I bet Ana has something tasty ready for us," Natasha carried Peter up some steps, and the boy briefly glimpsed something he'd never seen before- a farm.

They'd driven up a long, dirt drive that lead to a nice, little farm house, and a big red barn and chicken coop flanking it on the left. A fenced field on the right, and another behind the house were surrounded by woods on either sides. It was beautiful here.

Natasha knocked gently, and a friendly voice called for them to come inside. The inside of the farm house was rather cozy, but there were a few features about the place that Peter felt were… off, for lack of a better word.

They entered a short hallway which lead directly to the stairway, and off to the left was a spacious, bright dining room with another archway leading to the living room.

Natasha walked to the right, entering a kitchen which might at one point have been beautiful and well-organized, but at this point was covered in flour and in complete turmoil.

In the center of it all, a young woman stood, her face and short hair a powdery white color, but a big smile spread across her face as they came in, and she set down the bowl she'd been stirring.

"Nat! I'm so happy to see you!" The woman came in for a hug before either Natasha or Peter could get away and covered them in white powder as well.

Peter giggled, causing a monkey, who had been until this point unnoticeably playing with flour on the countertop, to chatter in answer.

Peter's giggled ended in a sneeze, and the monkey began to chatter more, rocking back and forth until he fell off the counter.

Peter and the two women laughed more, and soon they were all set up on the stools, flour cleared away in a window-wiper swipe of Ana's sleeve.

"So," Natasha began with a wry smile, "Seems like you've been busy… baking."

Ana stuck her tongue out, "Rico tipped over the bag of flour and began throwing it at me, so of course I had to retaliate-"

"-of course," Natasha sarcastically answered.

"Yes," Ana brushed over her comment, "and so I threw some powdered sugar back and all of a sudden, we're both covered in white, and it's only an hour before you two were supposed to get here! So of course I had to rush to finish up and now everything's in the oven, and I was just mixing the leftovers so I can make more some other time."

Peter cocked his head, "What're you making?"

Ana trilled with happiness, "My latest creation- Honeyed Chili Chocolate Chip Cookies!"

Peter frowned, "Chilly? Do you freeze them?"

Natasha shook her head while Ana's eyes lit up, "What an idea! I wonder what that would be like. Would I just take out the eggs and maybe use avocado, then I could leave it raw instead of baking it! Or would I freeze the cookies and use them in ice cream? I could bake them thin, so they'd come out of the oven like chips more than cookies, and then I could use those in ice cream, too…" the woman seemed to get lost in her thoughts.

Natasha chuckled slightly, "Chili powder is a ground up chili pepper, sometimes with other spices added in. It's spicy and hot, and goes well with chocolate. The Mayans, who were said to be the first to discover chocolate, would mix it with chili powder and water and drink it. They called it the 'food of the gods'."

Peter was enthralled by the story and looked towards the oven where the strong aroma of baking cookies seemed to be coming from.

"Are they almost done?" Peter asked, his stomach growling as if to second his question.

The two women laughed again before Ana answered, "Yes, they've got 20 more minutes and then they'll need to cool a bit. After that, you'll have to taste them and tell me what you think," she smiled and winked at Peter, before taking off her oven mitts, "In the meantime, would you like to go out to the barn and say hello to the horses?"

Peter immediately turned to Natasha, a big, goofy smile on his face, "They've got horses here?!"

Natasha smiled and nodded her head to the door, "Go on."

Peter jumped off the stool and raced to the front door. He ran towards the barn, and opened the door into the big, smelly building. Natasha and Ana weren't far behind.

Peter walked in slowly, taking in the tall, sturdy horses peering out of stalls at him. He looked at the horses' different colorings, 5 altogether; a whitish-grey horse, two brown ones with white hair spots on their faces, a tan looking horse with white a white mane. Beside the last horse was a little horse of the same coloring.

Her baby, Peter smiled, walking towards their stall. He looked up at the mother horse and held out his hand, reaching to pet her nose. The horse reached its head down, but the door between them was a bit too tall and seemed to cut into her throat a bit. Peter frowned, before looking around and spotting a stool.

He was dragging the stool over towards the mother horse when Natasha and Ana finally walked in.

"Oh, careful Peter," Ana warned, "Serene is a new mother, and she might not like you getting to close to her foal."

Peter turned, frowning, "Foal? What's that?"

The two women came up behind Peter, both holding a few carrots and Ana also had a banana.

"A foal is what baby horses are called," Natasha explained.

Peter nodded, "Do horses eat bananas?"

"Some do," Ana smiled, "It's actually Serene's favorite treat, and it helps to distract her. Once she's distracted, we can give the foal a check over, and maybe even pet it."

Peter spent the rest of the afternoon feeding the horses and getting to know them. Natasha, who was surprisingly familiar with the horses and farm, told Peter she came out here any free weekend she had to help Ana care for the animals.

The farm was a safe house that masqueraded as an animal sanctuary. To keep its cover, the sanctuary was home to all sorts of creatures- horses, chickens, dogs, cats, goats, Rico the monkey, and a few other odd animals. Ana was assigned to run the safe house, after her father, Kraven the Hunter, had been taken into custody a few years back. The girl had seen her father murder her mother, and resented the man. Because she was the daughter of a supervillain, however, SHIELD didn't trust her to be put in any higher position than a rarely-used safe house caretaker. Ana didn't mind after a while though. She loved being around animals, and having frequent visitors like Natasha made her less lonely.

Ana and Natasha both spent the majority of the day tending to the horses, and teaching Peter how to muck out stalls and such.

The boy didn't seem to mind the tasks he was given, even if his heightened sense of smell made the manure smell pretty unbearable.

When Natasha asked if it was bothering him, he replied simply that it took some getting used to.

Natasha had smirked at that; he wouldn't be stopped, Peter was enjoying himself too much.

The day ended with homemade lemonade and honeyed chili chocolate cookies.

Even with the sugar rush, Peter didn't last very long on the ride home, and Natasha had to carry him in herself.

Clint looked the boy over when he saw them come in, but one whiff of hay and hard work, and he laughed, "How'd he like it?"

Natasha gave him a look at his volume level, "He really connected with the foal. Ana even asked him to name it. We're going back out next weekend."

Clint nodded, watching his partner carry her charge down the hall, "Glad to see him still in one piece."

A random cookie flew past his ear, and he stifled his chuckles as best he could.

The two disappeared around the corner, and Clint's grin fell. Nat had really gone out of her way to take Peter to the Farm. Natasha had always been pretty withdrawn around kids, which Clint suspected had a lot to do with the Red Room. Natasha had always been pretty open with Clint, in a way that made them the closest thing to a real sibling either had ever had. Even so, Clint knew Nat still had a few secrets left, things she'd likely never share with anyone, and he was fine with that. He respected that about her. Even so, he often wondered what exactly went on in that place, the Red Room. He could feel a chill run through his body. Partnered for 15 years, and Clint knew he'd never fully understand what his best friend had gone through. However Peter had managed to connect to her, he was glad to see Natasha finally opening up, at least that tiniest bit more.

* * *

**Can you guys guess what exactly Natasha went through in the Red Room? I mean, yeah, a lot of sh*t happened, but something specific, something very, very important and very, very sad. Ugh, just thinking about it, I want to cry!**

**Peter's day with Natasha was kind of random, but I liked the idea of a sort of almost mother/son moment between our two favorite spiders. It makes me happy!**


	15. Chapter 10

**Short chapter, but... Bruce/Natasha feels?**

**Also, Bruce may be a self-deprecating little baby, but he's ****_our_**** self-deprecating baby, and we love him fiercely!**

* * *

Bruce was exhausted.

Not only was the SHIELD base that Bruce had gone to visit been attacked, but at least two of the scientists Bruce had been working with had to be shipped to a SHIELD medical facility for gamma radiation poisoning.

They'd been attempting to improve the use of gamma radiation for medical procedures. Gamma radiation was often used in chemo therapy as a way to kill cancer cells. However, the procedure often did more harm than help, as it also began to kill the patient. The scientists Bruce had met with were attempting to find a way to improve the process, and do less harm to the patients.

Bruce sighed, he was so done with gamma radiation, it was like everything in his life now revolved around subatomic particles and energy waves. He couldn't get away from it, radiation ruled his life. It tainted everything it touched; himself, his loved ones, his team, those poisoned scientists, even the Abomination, even-

Peter. No, Bruce frowned, Peter wasn't ruined by gamma rays, the boy was perfect how he was. He was just a child, innocent and optimistic, unaffected by the poison that ran through his veins.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened out to the dark Avenger's Tower common room. He was home, finally.

Bruce dumped his bag on the kitchen counter, opening the cupboard and digging around. He hadn't bothered with a light switch, but he really needed a glass of water and aspirin as his head was currently killing him.

Tony always kept a stash of aspirin in the first aid kit under the sink; whether these were for himself and his late-nights or for general use was unclear.

Once Bruce had gotten his glass and taken his pill, he noticed a white dish sitting on the counter, the top covered by tinfoil and brightly colored construction paper.

Walking over, Bruce could vaguely make out the words, "Daddy! Welcome home! Cook…s"

He squinted some more, trying to make out his son's writing- his heart always beat a bit faster at that thought, he had a son- before he quietly lifted the foil and paper. The white dish contained a pile of golden-brown cookies. They were chocolate chip, as far as he could tell, but they looked different for some reason.

Suddenly, Bruce's eyes exploded with light, and he swore under his breath, "gah! What the- turn the lights down, my eyes are on fire."

Somebody on the either side of the room turned the light switch knob down, so that only a gentle, warm light filled the room.

"Morning, Brucey," Tony called cheerfully from across the kitchen island.

"Is it morning already?" Bruce looked at the panel on the wall where JARVIS' screen changed to a clock. It had just turned 2am.

Tony grinned at him, "As much as I would love to chat, you need to see this."

Bruce frowned as the man-child quickly walked out of the kitchen, and down the hall. Tony turned back to his science bro and put his finger to his lips as he stopped in front of Peter's door. Bruce raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

The two peered into the room, as the door had been left ajar, and saw something rather unexpected.

Peter lay on his bed, wrapped up in his favorite blanket- a throw from the living room that often migrated to Peter's room. The, curled around the boy, lay Natasha, her hair fanned out on the boy's pillow as the child snuggled into her. They fit so naturally together, it surprised Bruce to think how, not two days ago, the boy would hide behind his leg whenever the spy would look his way.

Bruce stared at them, noting random details about the scene.

Natasha had on what Bruce assumed to be her favorite pjs- a black shirt with her red symbol on the front and a pair of leggings- as she wore them pretty often.

Bruce looked down and noticed a story book lying on the floor, as though it had haphazardly slipped from Natasha's fingers; ironically, the book was 'The Very Busy Spider'.

Bruce walked over to them, picking up the book, peeking at them to make sure he hadn't woken either up. Looking at his son, Bruce realized something; Peter's hair had trace amounts of red in it that made the boy and woman look fairly similar. A sudden image of a much older Peter graduating and being hugged by Natasha flashed through his head. He imagined that Peter's hair might lose some of its reddish coloring, but the two might still be mistaken for mother and son. Bruce quickly brushed the thought away.

The amount of spider-themed items in the room was a little absurd, and Bruce looked back over towards the door, where Tony still stood. He gestured quietly at the nightlight in the corner. It cast red and blue spiders onto the walls, which would've scared any other child, but Peter seemed to like them. Tony merely shrugged, smirking lightly.

Grabbing a second blanket from the big, comfy reading chair that was sat in the corner, Bruce laid it out over the two spiders- only to stop when a hand shot to his throat, inches away from jabbing his trachea.

Bruce slowly put a finger to his lips, glancing at Peter who had stirred at the slight movement of his bedfellow.

Natasha stilled and the two stayed completely still as the little boy finally settled. Pulling the blanket all the way up, Bruce covered them up comfortably, before leaning forward and brushing Peter's bangs away to press a gentle to his forehead. Natasha flattened herself the tiniest bit more to give him room

Unthinkingly, Bruce leaned down and did the same to Natasha, kissing the top of her head gently, lovingly. Taking a second for his exhausted brain to catch up with his actions, he realized what he'd just done- and that he had yet to pull his lips from her hair. Bruce moved back and stared down at Natasha, whose eyes were open and staring straight ahead. She slowly flicked her gaze over to Bruce, her expression unreadable.

Bruce's lips thinned, his cheeks turning a bright, _bright_ red which looked odd on him when his coloring was so much more often green. He quickly straightened, walking back to Tony a little stiffly. Why did he do that? What? Why did his brain let him do that? Obviously, it had been an accident, a moment where his consciousness had left his body and it had been left to do as it pleased, but… He'd just kissed the Black Widow on the forehead. Why.

Tony gave Bruce an odd look,oblivious to what had just happened. Bruce merely shook his head his expression plainly stating, "nothing to see here, move along now".

Tony's lips quirked in bemusement, but he nodded and headed back towards his room. Bruce took a breath, and headed to the next room over. The individual floors were still being worked on, but Tony had convinced Peter that it'd be a lot 'cooler' to have his own room. Bruce had been annoyed about this at first, but tonight, at least, he was grateful to get away from his son's room, and that awkward, embarrassing confrontation.

There was still tomorrow, though. Bruce groaned quietly, pushing open his door, and flinging himself onto his bed.

Ugh, he was so exhausted. He just needed sleep to wrap him in its pitch black arms and let him float for the next few hours.

Back in Peter's room, Natasha was doing her best to analyze the last few minutes. What had just happened? The little boy beside her shifted a bit, and Natasha began to review.

Bruce had kissed her- technically, it was her forehead, but it was too familiar a gesture to be anywhere near platonic. Maybe between somebody else, it wouldn't have mattered, but the Avengers didn't kiss their teammates on the forehead. Natasha's chest swelled just the tiniest bit with her swirling emotions. Did she like that he'd kissed her? ...Yes, it had been kind of nice. Was that an indication of further feelings? Ones that she had previously been unaware of? Natasha looked deeper, considering the way she felt around Bruce, about the man. He was gentle and kind, he was powerful and strong, but very humble about it. He was also broken, something she could very much relate to. He was easy to talk to, and she had let a surprising amount of information slip around the man. He was surprisingly understanding about what she'd told him about the Red Room, the vague details having been deciphered rather easily by the clever man. When the conversation had ended, she hadn't even felt ashamed for giving Bruce so much leverage over her.

She frowned, even if the man was easy to talk to, fraternizing was something she was very much against. You couldn't get involved with the people who watched your back; it could only end badly- and had, for her and for others. She had watched so many relationships among SHIELD agents, and could even remember a few in the Red Room, and every single one of them had ended with death or worse. The Red Room was especially cruel, and didn't tolerate anything that could even resemble caring. Natasha's face fell in the dark shadows of the room, memories flashing before her eyes.

Even worse, Bruce was a package deal- Peter would definitely be involved if any relationship between them started, and he'd get hurt too. And, _if_ Natasha couldn't have a relationship with Bruce, she'd have to give up Peter… she'd have to give up a child. Again.

Natasha could feel her emotions swelling, but she was a Black Widow. She didn't cry. So instead, she shut down, curling around the boy and forcing herself to accept the black waters of sleep that beckoned her.

She dozed off soon after, but not before tucking Peter farther into her side, protectively.

* * *

**Ok, I know that was a little forced, but I just wanted to make clear that the things Nat went through in the Red Room- they weren't nice! And I really wanted a mother/father/son moment here, and it just seemed so cute, but then it got kinda intense so... yeah.**

**Is there a way to make a poll somewhere? I would love to see what you guys think about this pairing.**

**HOMEWORK:**

** What do you guys think? Natasha and Bruce pairing- GOOD OR NAH**


	16. Chapter 11

**I hope you're all happy. I've got a test tomorrow, but I wrote this instead of studying, and now it's 11pm, and I can't decided whether I'm relieved to have written something (it's such a nice destresser), or angry at myself for not studying.**

Bruce had a lot to think about.

He'd kissed Natasha- albeit in a slightly platonic fashion and a while completely exhausted, creating an excusably confused mental- you know what, it didn't matter. He'd kissed her, and they hadn't talked about it, hadn't even brought it up, since it happened… a week ago.

Another matter that had been slowly settling on him as the weeks went by was his son's education. Peter needed to go to school. Ok, well, first they needed to find out what sort of schooling level the boy was even at, considering they had no idea what Richard and Mary had managed to teach him before their… disappearance. The boy was incredibly smart from what Bruce had seen of Tony's time with him in the labs, and what he himself had seen firsthand as Peter had proven himself to be quite the little lab assistant and retained information so well that he likely could've repeated the experiments on his own. And he was 5 years old. Even with his amazing retention, Peter still needed a proper education _and_ even more importantly, socializing. Surrounded by adults all day, some of whom were more childish than Peter *cough Tony cough*, isn't good for a child. He needed to be around kids his own age, and be a- semi- normal kid for once. No living on the streets and working for scraps, no superpowers, no threats to his life, no craziness.

Now that he had the responsibility of raising a child, his child, Bruce had to laugh at himself, thinking back to a couple nights ago. He had found adoption papers placed strategically on his nightstand; someone had apparently had the forethought to consider the fact that Peter wasn't yet Bruce's in the eyes of the law. That's right, Peter may have been his child by blood, but the government was pretty touchy about a child living with and being supported by people who claimed to be their guardians without proper documentation. The papers, it seemed, were compliments of Director Fury, who had _thoughtfully_ pushed through all the red tape and gotten Peter's birth certificate changed to correctly show Bruce as his biological father, and if he signed the papers, he would be the boy's legal guardian as well.

With all this to think about, and so much to do to get Peter enrolled and the paperwork filed and just everything that was on his plate, of course Tony would cause him some trouble. The man-child had been begging the whole team to have what he called "a Super-Family Reunion Extravaganza!" They'd received notice that Thor would be returning to Midgard in two weeks' time, and Tony wanted to have a party. But not just any party- no, because a small gathering would be unacceptable. The man was inviting every 'friend' and 'acquaintance he could track down. JARVIS and Pepper had been kind enough to intervene, and had filtered the list down from the thousand it had reached. Bruce had nearly hyperventilated when he heard that number. He was not a party person. Or good with crowds. Or anybody outside of his small circle of friends.

Pepper had pointed out that everybody who had been invited were people he already knew. They knew who he and what he was, and wouldn't view him as a monster. He had nothing to fear. When Bruce had made clear that that wasn't quite the issue, she had kindly pointed out that if he became overwhelmed, all he had to do was excuse himself. The party was being held in the commons area of the Tower, and he could easily leave to a different part of the Tower if he needed to get away. Everything would be fine, and if he really didn't want to go, Pepper could always sneak Peter and him out the back door when Tony wasn't looking. They could go get dinner and avoid the whole thing.

Bruce sighed, although he hadn't said as much to Pepper, he knew Tony would notice if he wasn't there. The man always seemed to know if Bruce had sneaked off, and would sniff him out like an annoyingly clingy, and unfortunately social, puppy dog. Yep, a puppy dog with puppy dog eyes, right up until you agreed to whatever he wanted, and then he turned into a barnacle, stuck fast to your arm and dragging you off to forcibly socialize with people. That was Tony, the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist puppy-barnacle.

Ugh, Bruce was exhausted, and he hadn't even gotten out of bed yet. The man hadn't moved since he'd woken nearly half an hour ago, his thoughts over-flowing like a shaken up soda pop.

Ok, today's checklist, Bruce thought to himself, send in the adoption papers, broach the school topic with Peter, convince Tony not to make everyone go to the party in uniform, not think about Natasha since she seems to be avoiding me…

His checklist would have continued if not for the 'thump' sound outside in the hall. Bruce got up quickly, what in the world was going on.

There in the hallway, Clint laid on the floor, arm flung over his eyes as if trying to pass off his current position as a casual lounge.

"Uh, Clint?" Bruce lifted a brow,

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

"Lying on the floor," Bruce could hear the silent _duh_ at the end of that sentence.

"Are you… hungover?" Bruce asked, surprised. Clint had a rather high tolerance for alcohol. Honestly, that seemed to be a running theme on the team. Natasha, Clint, and Tony were the only members of the team who didn't have some sort of super-powered tolerance (Bruce didn't include himself in either category since he didn't drink; the Other Guy was more easy to trigger when Bruce was inebriated), and their alcohol tolerance was pretty high. They never really saw Natasha drink, but Clint had told them she could drink almost anyone under the table, sitting there like she was sipping tea with the queen while her opponents passed out drunk in front of her. Clint had developed a pretty high tolerance himself, and Tony was… Tony.

To find any of them hungover was quite the spectacle.

"Don't… talk so loud," Clint mumbled out, grimacing slightly.

"What happened last night exactly?" Bruce asked amused.

"Your fault," the man muttered.

Bruce cocked his head, confused, "What?"

"Stupid Tony can't get you to go out anywhere with 'im, so he takes me instead," the archer groaned as a loud laugh sounded from the kitchen, the man himself, "He ordered me a 911 at this shitty bar downtown."

Bruce disappeared back into his room for a moment, jogging to his en suite bathroom. He returned to his pitiful floor companion with a cold, wet wash cloth in hand.

Pressing it gently to the archer's brow, he asked, "What, exactly, is a 911?"

"Mm, 's like an irish carbomb, according to Tony," Clint held the washcloth to his eyes, sighing at the cool feeling.

Bruce shook his head, now what in the world was an irish carbomb? He was definitely not asking Tony; as smart as the man was, he never seemed able to comprehend the effect alcohol had on the Other Guy.

"Well, as much as I wouldn't mind a having a doormat, I don't think you're quite up to the job," Bruce said cheerily, crouching down next to Clint.

"Wha's that supposed to mean-"

Bruce grabbed Clint's arm, pulling the man into a sitting position, the man groaning loudly.

"C'mon, up we go," Bruce helped him up, and together they walked to Clint's room. Once the archer was tucked into his bed, an aspirin and glass of water on his nightstand- Bruce was a doctor after all- Bruce shut the door and headed for the kitchen to get something to eat.

**I know this was really short, but I just needed to drop a few points in, and develop what's going on for Bruce right now.**

**Bruce is currently feeling the pressure. Usually, I don't think he'd have _such_ a problem with a party- even if it's a lot of people, he'll know most of them, so what's he getting all upsetti sphagetti about?**

**I think it's just the pressure he's under, what with finally adopting Peter and his feelings for Natasha developing and knowing that his son somehow has to navigate the real world with a rage monster just under his skin- ok, honestly, I think Bruce doesn't have all that much to be upset over or worried about. He's elated to be adopting Peter, and the Natasha thing and school stuff and Peter being green are all weighing on his mind, but the girl whose writing his character is also under a lot of pressure right now, so it's getting translated into his own feelings.**

**Yep, I am now projecting my subconscious feelings onto my own characters. What the fudge.**

**A FEW THINGS FROM YOUR OVERLORD TO YOU, POOR AND RATHER UNFORTUNATE... MINIONS (?):**

**Naviv, **that was a nod to you, m'dear! ^^^

**Umbra Drachen, **did you see?! Did you see what I included?! You commented a while back, and I've just been sitting on that one. I've wanted to use it in my story, and now I have, and I hope you saw it and love it.

**I am the Misty N,** You're so sweet, haha! I didn't think you were, but that's very nice of you to say. Sadly, no new cliffhangers this chapter, not really. But next chapter is all parties and angst, so there will no doubt be some cliffhanging to follow.

**EowynPevensie90,** Awwww, you're so sweet! I also saw your comment on Jolly Green Giant and Son, and ohhhhh baby! ANGST IS MY MIDDLE NAME. WE ARE NOW ALL ON THE TRAIN TO ANGSTOWN, FASTEN YOUR NON-EXISTENT SEATBELTS AND TAKE OFF ALL YOUR CLOTHES BECAUSE THINGS ARE ABOUT TO GET HOT IN HERE, THERE'S SO MUCH ANGST. WE'RE GONNA BURN DOWN THE CITY, PAINT THE TOWN RED, TIP SOME ANGSTY COWS IN THE FIELDS AND GET YELLED AT BY EMO FARMERS. WE'RE GONNA RUN RED LIGHTS AND NOT CARE BECAUSE ALL THE ANGST WE'VE BREATHED IN HAS MADE US ANGSTY OURSELVES. WHO CARES IF THE GIRL IS FREAKING ON FIRE, WE HAVE ANGST TO DEAL WITH, WE CAN'T SOLVE YOUR ANGSTY PROBLEMS WHEN OUR CHARACTERS ARE SUFFERING UNDER THE WEIGHT OF ANGST. Suffice it to say, I have taken your ideas into consideration.

**is-is424, **I've never actually written M/M romance before, and as cute as Tony and Bruce could be together, cuz I can actually totally see that, and it's TOTES ADORABLE, I don't think I'll be pairing them together. I have my reasons for the Bruce/Natasha pairing, and I'm gonna stick with 'em. Even so! I thought I still might include a few things for you- just for you, meh love! If you noticed anything in this chapter that might be a hint at some attraction between them- or possibly a one-sided attraction- that's how I meant to write it. And I'll be including more later. Yeah. Ok, but what's Tony/Bruce/Pepper? Is that... an open relationship or something? What exactly did you want from that? Please PM me, cuz I'd love to hear your thoughts!

**LAST BUT NOT LEAST,**

**I-am-an-Ice-cream-lover**, Thank you for pointing this out! I actually hadn't thought about that. If you hadn't mentioned it, I would've gone off on a Bruce/Natasha focus which, when I think about it, would've taken away from the story in the end. If I want any Bruce/Natasha specific chapters, I'll post them on Jolly Green Giant and Son, but Spidey Boy and the Jolly Green Giant is about Peter (i.e. _Spidey Boy_). Thanks a bunch for saying something! You really saved my caboose there!

**STAY TUNED FOR MORE SOON!**


	17. Chapter 12

**LONG CHAPTER****.**

**ANGST****. I think. I couldn't really tell since I was covering my eyes for most of it.**

**TONY/BRUCE FEELS.**** Because you guys asked for it. It's not going to continue... I don't think.**

**SO SO SOOO SORRY I'M, LIKE, THREE DAYS LATE. SHIT.**** I took my test on Thursday- cross your fingers cuz I never really can tell what's going to happen with those- and then Friday I went for a swim and exhausted my poor little writing fingers and brain, and THEN we had people come over, and I had to sleep on the couch, and it was too awkward to write cuz all these old folks are super nosy and interrupt any kind of concentration I manage to wrangle up. So, no writing 'til now.**

**DEADPOOL****. In next chapter. He's vaguely mentioned this chapter, but we'll actually meet him when he meets Peter next chapter.**

**NO PLOT**** in this chapter. Well, not really. A huge portion of this chapter is just me trying to set the stupid scene for this party. There are literally 35 people in this chapter to keep track of. 35 PEOPLE. I've never written that many.**

**POLL AT THE BOTTOM****. That'll be your homework for this chapter, and I ****_do_**** expect some answers.**

* * *

Surprisingly, the number of people invited ended up being only twenty-seven, and fifteen of those were actually children.

Tony seemed a bit put out by the fact that his usually very adult party had been turned into something almost like… a family gathering.

"Brucie, you know I love Petey, but why are all these _other_ kids here? I mean, I was really hoping to introduce you to a few people tonight, but now everyone's distracted," he huffed childishly as he walked over to where Bruce and Natasha were standing by the window.

Natasha gave Tony a dry look, "Weren't you the one that was calling it a 'Super-Family Reunion Extravaganza'."

Bruce snorted, "That's actually pretty accurate with all the kids here tonight. I'm pretty sure there's more children than adults."

The three looked around at the gathering of people. Bruce searched among the tiny faces for his son, and spotted the boy as he ran down the hall, three other little boys, who appeared to be about his same age, chasing after him as he seemed to be carrying a small, metal ball in his hands. Peter shrieked rather loudly, drawing the attention of a few adults, as two more children got in front of him, a girl phasing out of the floor, and a boy with blue skin and a tail popping into existence. The collision that followed was rather spectacular as Peter tumbled into the two, the three boys behind him toppling over them. The pile of small bodies was, thankfully, giggling and wrestling for the ball.

The Blue boy yelled out in a heavily accented, high-pitched voice, "Got it!" before disappearing, only to reappear near the kitchen. The other children soon followed.

The guest list had been quite the thing to see, but having all the people here was even more impressive.

A few of the X-men had been invited- Xavier, Storm, Beast, Wolverine and Cyclops- and they had brought the blue boy and the girl. The Guardians of the Galaxy were a recently made ally of the Avengers when they helped stop a few loose Chitauri were wreaking havoc, left behind from the Battle of New York. They had brought along one of the boys who'd been chasing Peter, a kid named Nova.

The other two boys had been Luke and Danny, and they were actually brought by Natasha- per Fury's orders. Fury had, in fact, been sent an invitation, much to Tony's chagrin, but had declined with the excuse that he had better things to do. His actual words were a bit more… emphatic than that.

Like his partner, Clint had also brought a kid with him, not his own, but a girl he was training, Kate Bishop. She was a little older than most of the other children here, and seemed uninterested in playing board games on the floor. That's where the last few children were, surrounded by their parents and guardians as a spread of every board game imaginable lay before them. Tony had bought the games to be played on movie nights, when the team would gather to relax and 'bond', as the man-child put it.

Two twin boys sat playing a card game. The twins were Wanda Maximoff's children, and had been accompanied by their mother and uncle. The last girl sitting across from the twins was the daughter of Ant-man, specifically Scott Lang, not Hank. Beside her, peeking rather inconspicuously at the girl's cards, was a boy who looked like he'd been dragged through gravel, his skin covered in scars. He came with Logan, the wolverine dragging the sullen boy in, and leaving him to get acquainted with the other children.

It was notable that, even though many of the children were different-looking, like Logan's charge and the blue-skinned boy, none of the others pointed it out. Bruce supposed that, after being different their whole lives, it must be a relief to be surrounded by children who were just as different. Appearances be damned, every child here had some sort of ability that made them feel a disconnect from the 'normal' world.

Bruce had thought that the party would be hard for him to handle, but he was stunned to note that he didn't feel any anxiety at being here. They were surrounded by friends and allies- people who wouldn't judge them for their abilities, or their problems, and even more encouraging, at their feet sat the next generation of heroes, children who, if allowed to spend even more time with each other, might have a reprieve from the constant fear and hatred of society that had haunted many of their guardians.

"Tony, what exactly did you put on the invites? You must have made some mention of Peter for everyone to show up with their own," Natasha remarked curiously, "I didn't even know Logan had a kid."

Tony scratched behind his head, sighing as he leaned dramatically on Bruce's shoulder, "I didn't actually read over the invites before sending them out, Pepper wrote it. I just gave her the guest list, which hardly did anything since she basically got rid of everyone on the list," the man pouted.

Pepper herself stood listening to Hank Pym, the former Ant-man, as he animatedly talked about something- likely when he used to be Ant-man. Based on the body language of the man beside Hank, Scott Lang, who was the current Ant-man, it probably wasn't that interesting.

"Dr. Banner!" A tall man called, his companion sticking close to his side as they walked over. Bruce couldn't place the tall man, but he knew the man beside him; Matthew Murdock.

The blind lawyer didn't actually need to stick so close to the other man, but very few actually knew of the fact that Murdock was the vigilante, Daredevil. Matthew had been friends with Bruce for years, and the two had watched out for one another. Being that the lawyer commonly worked cases to defend superheroes, Bruce had always been confused about why he never told his clients how much he could relate to their situation, but the man had simply answered that he liked keeping up appearances. Daredevil's greatest weapon was the element of surprise, and he was loath to lose that. Having a few others, such as Bruce, knowing the truth was enough for him.

Bruce turned his attention to the other man, who was quite tall with a well-shaped beard and 'stache, walked straight for him, the air changing around them as he approached, alerting them all that this man was no more ordinary than they themselves.

"Dr. Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts, at your service," the man, Dr. Strange, flourished an elegant bow towards the three, before stepping forward and kissing Natasha's hand, "Master Murdock has told me much of you, and I felt it would be remiss not to introduce myself, when this party is, in fact, in your honor," he smiled charmingly.

Bruce blinked in surprise, before turning to Tony who was slightly red and looking out the window, conspicuously avoiding Bruce's eye, "In my honor, eh?" he turned back towards Dr. Strange, "and what has Murdock been telling you, exactly? Good or…?" the timid doctor frowned.

Dr. Strange smiled, "Good, all good, I assure you. We are all amongst our fellows here, are we not? It is quite a gathering, the very air within these walls swirls with potency," the _strange_ man (hah.) seemed to stare into space, as though watching the 'potency' flit by, before he flicked his wrist in an odd way and a glass of what looked like champagne appeared in his hand.

Tony was openly staring at Dr. Strange, his gaze fixed on the other man's hand. Bruce knew his friend was trying to figure out what sort of mechanism would be made to do such a thing. Tony had always been fascinated by magicians, trying to figure out how exactly they created their tricks. Bruce frowned, supposing that just this once, this 'magician' might not be faking it. If a man who claimed to wield magic was amongst a group of superheroes, he likely wasn't lying. It was common sense not to lie to your ally, as lies were meant to deceive and deceit was only useful in fighting the bad guys. At least, that was Bruce's opinion.

"Well, umh, let me introduce you, I guess, then," Bruce said awkwardly, coming back to the conversation, "This is Natasha Romanoff and this is-"

"-Tony Stark, son of Howard Stark, inventor, genius, philanthropist, billionaire, hero. Also dating…" Strange paused a moment, looking over at Pepper across the room, before glancing rather inconspicuously towards Bruce, "Ah, you are no longer dating Miss Potts."

Everyone gaped before Tony stepped forward, "Cool party trick, Copperfield, but you could've read that off any tabloid. And what's with the drink, huh? How'd you keep it from spilling?"

Bruce interrupted, "Wait, Tony, you and Pepper...?" He let the question hang, but Tony just waved him off in an obvious 'I'll tell you later' gesture, his expression unreadable.

Strange smiled cryptically, "Well," waving his hand, he pulled another glass of champagne out of thin air, "How about you try and take a sip?"

Tony lifted an eyebrow before taking hold of the glass; he held it just long enough to get it to his mouth before it disappeared in his hand. He looked annoyed for a second before turning back. Dr. Strange had third glass in hand, and take a sip from it, dropping his very first glass out of existence, then handed the this third glass to Tony- only to have the glass slip away like smoke the moment the billionaire touched it.

Bruce chuckled slightly before walking towards the large group of children; behind him, he could hear Tony's cry in protest. Looking for Peter, Bruce smiled as he saw Wanda gathering the children together, and instructing them on how to play a certain game. The children were getting a little rowdy, though, and they were having trouble concentrating on what the woman was saying.

Wanda frowned as Bruce walked over, the other parents and guardians either watching or continuing their conversations, "I think ze young ones are a bit over-excited."

The sudden sound of glass breaking caught everyone's attention as they looked over to see where Steve had accidentally bumped into a coffee table, in turn shattering a wine glass onto the floor, as he narrowly avoided two little boys chasing after each other.

"That's it!" Clint's loud voice called out, "Kids, we're going to the training room. C'mon!"

The children started to run after the archer as he gestured for them to follow him towards the stairs. As the children filtered out, the sounds of their laughter and stomping feet echoing in the stairwell. The training room would definitely be a good place to put the rowdy children for the time being, and it didn't escape Bruce's notice that Clint took the stairs instead of the elevator, as the training room was two floors up. Hopefully, the climb would tire the children out a bit.

Once the children were completely gone, the room had quieted a lot with fifteen little voices gone. Somewhere in the living room, a man breathed out, "Finally," and a few others chuckled. A separation of adult and children was kind of a relief.

Bruce would've smiled at the humor, but personally he still felt the need to spend time with Peter. If Bruce had turned around, he would've noticed two people walking towards him, one a little faster than the other.

A hand clapped onto Bruce's shoulder, making him jump, "Well, now that the kids are off to have their own little party, we adults can finally breathe a little," Bruce smirked as Tony sighed dramatically.

Tony actually really loved kids; Bruce remembered a conversation he'd had with a slightly inebriated Stark a while back, maybe a month after the Battle of New York. Tony had confessed that Pepper didn't want to have kids, and that really bothered Tony. The man had always dreamed of having his own kids, of teaching his child to walk, taking them to their first soccer game, teaching them how to build their first robot- things Tony never got to do with his own father. It hadn't been long after that conversation that Bruce began to see the real Tony Stark, the real man behind all the bravado and humongous ego; he was a simple man who wanted simple things.

No matter how grand or beautiful Tony's homes were, or how much money he spent on frivolous things like sports cars and clothes, the real Tony spent all his time in his workshop and used the fancy house as a cover. The real Tony barely drove any of his sports cars, and was more likely to fly in his suit to a meeting across town than drive any of his cars. The real Tony wore graphic t-shirts of his favorite bands, Black Sabbath and AC/DC.

The man wanted to invent machines that helped save the world, he wanted a simple life with simple things, and he wanted kids. After everything he'd been through, he deserved at least that.

Two fingers snapped in front of his face, Tony's concerned expression appearing a bit too close for comfort in front of his eyes.

"Hey, Brucie babe, don't be goin' places while I'm talking, alright? Hey, cutie, you still in there?" Tony's tone and expression betrayed his concern.

Bruce jerked back a bit, and Tony seemed to realize how close he'd gotten. The billionaire blushed a bit, before smiling sheepishly.

Bruce smirked back, "Careful, Tony, else someone might think you actually care," he joked.

As Bruce began to walk back towards Dr. Strange and Matthew, he thought he briefly heard an, "I do care."

Turning back, he caught Tony's wounded expression before he could cover it up. Bruce felt a slight jerk of confusion and regret, "I know you do, Tony," he answered quietly as the man walked towards him, "C'mon, I think Matthew's looking a little green with all the 'magical' champagne Strange has been giving him. If I didn't know better, I might think the magician is trying to get our favorite lawyer drunk."

Tony perked up a bit, throwing his arm around Bruce's shoulder, "Well, we can't have Atticus Finch over there getting taken in by a _stranger_ now, can we?"

Bruce snorted, letting his friend guide him over to the pair, "So… about you and Pepper," Bruce said slowly, watching Tony's reaction. He stopped a moment, before pulling Bruce in the direction of the kitchen, which was deserted at the moment.

Tony let go of Bruce, stepping towards the liquor cabinet, only to find it empty. Pepper had been very clear that, with superkids around, alcohol couldn't be allowed in the building. Children who could walk through walls and break locks with the touch of their hands shouldn't be allowed near alcohol, or they might get the wrong idea and drink it. Pepper also had the cleaning supplies moved down a few floors; she didn't trust a child's common sense very much.

Bruce approached his friend slowly, "Tony, everything alright? If you and Pepper are over… I mean, are you ok? What's… are you guys just-"

"-It's not, you know, it's not like we're on bad terms or anything. We've been drifting apart for a while, and… and Pepper and I, we realized we want really different things," Tony looked up at Bruce in a meaningful way, and Bruce knew it was about Peter. Tony had spent a huge amount of time with Peter in the labs, almost as much as Bruce had. If it wasn't for the fact that the two generally ended up blowing stuff up for the heck of it, Bruce would've trusted Tony to babysit on a regular basis. The problem was, with all the time Tony had been spending, Bruce knew the man hadn't been out with his girlfriend for a while. In fact, when Bruce did see the two together, it was like watching business partners interact and less like watching a couple. Ever since the Battle of New York, Tony and Pepper had been pulling farther and farther apart, it was obvious. Even so, Bruce felt a little bad, as Peter was most likely the straw that broke the camel's back.

Bruce ducked his head, guilt written all over his face, "Oh, Tony, I'm so sorry. Peter, I mean I didn't mean to-"

"-No! No, Bruce, really, Peter wasn't the problem. In fact, I feel like I should thank you both, Tony had walked up to Bruce, leaning against the counter beside him, "Pepper and I, our relationship has been… it's been on its last leg for a while. The romance, it's just been fading out, ya'know? The more and more we began to focus on work, with Pepper being CEO of Stark Industries, and me with the Avengers and my suits, it just…" the man looked down, frowning, "It was a long time coming, and this was good. We still care about each other, you know, just not in that way anymore. I'd still take a bullet for Pepper- worse, even- but I don't think I feel that way anymore…" Tony's voice flickered out as he seemed to get lost in thought.

Bruce watched his friend a moment, noting the way he stood, his stance resigned if a bit slumped. Tony may have been alright with leaving Pepper, but that didn't mean he couldn't feel depressed about no longer being in a relationship. Pepper had been Tony's longest standing relationship in his entire life, or at least as far as Bruce knew. A relationship like that, no matter how faded, would still bother him, Bruce was sure.

"Hey, Tony, it's alright. You know, some things are just meant to end, and that's ok," Bruce frowned, "maybe you should take some time off from dating, just take a step back from women for a while, and take a break. Clear your head."

Tony grimaced, his eyes flickering to Bruce for a moment.

Bruce frowned, "Are… are you already… seeing someone new?" he asked incredulously.

Tony barked a laugh, "No, no, I'm just… Like you said, I'm taking a break from women, and… I mean, I'm trying to… there's someone I'd…" Tony looked down a second, "Uh, umh, Bruce, look…"

Bruce felt something click in his head. Tony had been… sticking to Bruce a lot tonight.

"Tony," Bruce began, "Umh, are you-"

"Hey, you two, I don't think you'll wanna miss this!" Susan Richards née Storm called from the kitchen entryway.

Tony stood up abruptly, "What's going on?" he asked, a big smile plastered on his face.

Susan paused a moment, taking in the two men's proximity, before continuing, "Thor finally arrived a few minutes ago, and has challenged the 'Captain of Sickles' to a friendly arm wrestle," Susan snorted lightly.

Tony chuckled as well at how his nickname for Steve had been twisted in such a way, "We'll be right there."

As soon as Susan disappeared around the corner, Bruce began to speak, only to be stopped by his friend.

"Tony-"

"-No, Bruce, look, I know you're not… I know it's not like that for you, but… I just wanted to let you know where I'm at right now, ya'know, cuz we're friends, and you don't lie to your friends, and…" Tony scratched behind his ear, obviously uncomfortable, his expression tired, "Yeah, that's, that's… I just wanted to let you know that, okay?"

"…okay."

Tony threw on a grin, "Now, c'mon! I wanna see whose gonna win this match, the L'Oréal Commercial or the Boy from Brooklyn."

Bruce smiled faintly, "Yeah, sure. Lead the way."

The two men walked out of the kitchen and towards the circle of people in the middle of the living room.

* * *

**I know, that was... ugh.**

**BRUCE AND TONY TOGETHER IS SO FREAKING ADORABLE but I just was so committed to having Nat be a mommy spider to Peter SINCE HER CHILD WAS MURDERED IN FRONT OF HER (Did I say that out loud?), BUT NOW TONY NEEDS A CHILD TOO BECAUSE OF ALL THE SHITTING FEELS I PUT INTO THIS CHAPTER. DAMMIT, EMMA, LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE, YOU IDIOT.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

**HOMEWORK: MUCHO IMPORTANTE!**

**Let's have a poll. I don't care if there's some way to make a poll somewhere on this website or not, I want everyone to vote on BRUCE/TONY or BRUCE/NATASHA. You freakin' decide, I sure can't. I'll be posting the same question on the next chapter, so anyone whose paying attention can vote TWICE. Aren't I generous...**

**SAY GOODNIGHT TO YOUR OVERLORD AND LEAVE HER COMMENTS TO FEAST UPON.**


	18. Chapter 13

**Once again, this chapter has a lot of descriptive fluff in it, and not a lot of plot.**

**Also, today has weirdly enough involved a lot of the number thirteen. I'm not superstitious or anything, just been reading too much Labyrinth fanfiction, I think. This is the 13th chapter, I got thirteen new comments on this story, and I went to two different stores and both of my receipt totals were $13. ...Weeeeeird... 0.o 0.o**

**REPEAT OF LAST CHAPTER FROM PETER'S POV**

* * *

Peter stood in the dark of the hallway, watching the children filter in from the elevator. The first party guests were just arriving and many of them had, surprisingly, brought children with them. Peter frowned; he never really felt comfortable around kids his own age. They always stared at him and never wanted to play. It was like he had something on his face that everyone could see but him, something that told people not to go near him.

Peter watched the other children as they held close to their parents, sighing. Maybe he'd just hide in the vents for the rest of the night. Clint had showed him a place a few days ago that had enough room for one person to sit comfortably, and Peter had chosen it as his Super-Secret Hiding Place.

Just before the boy could move towards the ventilation shaft, Clint walked out of the elevator with a girl following behind him. The girl was a little older than Peter, but didn't look very much like Clint, so Peter didn't think she was Clint's daughter. Clint was married wasn't he? He'd told Peter that his wife was about to have a baby, but obviously this girl couldn't be that baby, right? Peter shook his head to clear his thoughts, and headed towards the archer as the man beckoned him over.

"Hey, Peter!" Clint smiled brightly, "I'd like you to meet someone. This is my apprentice, Katie Bishop."

Peter and the girl looked at each other, although she seemed to be sizing him up more than anything.

The girl finally spoke, "Hi."

Peter ducked his chin a bit, "Hello."

Clint looked between the two of them before giving them both a little push towards the other children who had gathered around a nice-looking woman dressed in red who had a funny accent.

"Don't just stand there, kiddos, move!" the girl glared back at Clint at the 'kiddos' comment before grabbing Peter's arm and dragging him over to the group.

The woman was talking, "Alright? So, this is how the game is played," She held up a metal ball in her hand, "We pass the ball around so that it can read your fingers, and then we decide who begins with it. When you get the ball, it will remember you for each time you hold it, and whoever gets the ball the most by the end of the game wins. The ball will tell you who held it the most, see?" the woman explained easily, and Peter nodded along with the other children, "Now, a few rules," she gave a stern look to two young boys, twins, who stood beside her, "There will be no fighting or purposeful hitting, I want a clean game, alright?" The two boys sighed in unison, but nodded along with the rest of the children, "Powers are allowed," two other children, a boy and girl on the left, gasped and Peter looked over at them for a moment, noticing that the boy was blue and had a tail, "but I expect you to use them responsibly and don't break anything. This isn't our home, and we should respect that the things here aren't ours. And no shooting anyone or using your powers to hurt each other, either. When someone new gets the ball, the ball will make a noise telling everyone- keep in mind, though, it's not how long you have the ball, but how many times…"

The rules continued and before Peter knew it, the game had started.

And Peter was the first holder.

Peter ran down the hall, listening as the woman counted to three, all the other children waiting behind him.

He turned in time to grin at them all before jumping onto the ceiling, sticking there, and quickly making his way around the corner.

He heard the other children gasp a bit and making excited sounds, before the woman's voice called, "Go!" and Peter really began to move.

He climbed towards the stairwell, the doorway to the stairs opening for him- Jarvis had been programmed by Tony to open for Peter when he was on the ceiling, as he had complained about having to crawl down to reach the door handle.

Jumping onto the railing that wrapped around the stairway, Peter turned just in time to see four little boys chasing after him, two running, one flying and another speeding so fast that he crashed into the other three as he tried to take the corner too fast.

"Tommy!" The boy who had been flying cried out, frustrated. He and Tommy were the twins from earlier.

Peter jumped up to the railing above him as his senses told him to move, and the place where he had just been was suddenly occupied by the blue boy. The blue boy looked up at him and smiled shyly, embarrassed.

Peter grinned back at him and laughed, "Catch me if you can!"

The blue boy laughed too, and soon Peter was jumping back and forth as he narrowly avoided the blue teleporter. Peter was caught by surprise when suddenly the blue boy wasn't where he expected him to be, but a sudden yelp from behind him had him whipping back around.

The blue boy was in mid-air, falling in the rather large gap between the stairwell railings; he was falling right for the cement floor that broke up the stairwell, a plummeting 20 ft. below them.

Peter dived towards the other boy, shooting a web at his chest and swinging them towards the stairs, ball momentarily forgotten in midair, "Careful!"

The two boys landed safely on the stairs, tumbling a bit, before turning around to try and catch the ball too. Only the ball had already fallen past them; looking over the edge, the boys heard the metal thing chime two flights down- in the outstretched hand of a little African-American boy. The boy laughed gleefully at having caught his prize, only to yelp when it was bopped out of his hand by the little girl who had been standing beside the blue boy earlier. She had come through the floor underneath the other boy, and pushed the ball out of his hand, emerging fully from the floor, and taking the ball, running back down the flight of stairs.

The game continued in this fashion, different boys and the one girl using their gifts and abilities to get the ball from the others.

As the game progressed, Peter began to learn the other children's names. The blue-skinned boy- who turned out to be furry as well- was named Kurt, and the girl who had been with him was his friend, Kitty. They were from a school where girls and boys of all ages who had special powers like them were able to go to school together. Peter liked the idea of going to a school for kids with special powers, playing with children like this all day and getting to fight bad guys when he got older. Kitty had called it a superhero school, but Kurt had meekly said that he didn't like fighting bad guys, didn't want to fight anyone. The little African-American boy they'd seen earlier, Luke, was really nice and fun. The current holder, a boy who could fly like a rocket, sorta, was Luke's friend, Nova. Nova actually lived in space, which was really cool! When Peter and his new friends had finally run into Nova- he'd lost the ball to the really fast twin- he told them how he had come with his 'team', a group of heroes that protected the whole galaxy. The boy seemed a little too smug about it, but Peter brushed him off.

They soon all split up, Kitty and Kurt running off in one direction while Nova flew back the way the others had come. Luke told Peter that he was going to go find his other friend, Danny, and had run off after Kitty and Kurt.

Peter frowned, looking around and trying to decide which way to go. Nova had flown down the hall towards the labs while Kurt, Kitty, and Luke had run back in the direction of the stairs. The fast boy could be on any floor at this point, but he and his brother acted like they'd played this game before, so they probably knew the smartest way to win.

Peter frowned; how would you win at this game? He tried to think about it as he began to climb up the wall towards the ventilation shaft. That's when his ears picked up the sound of whispers coming from inside the vent.

Peter smiled, he'd found the holder. As Peter crawled closer to the other boy, he heard more whispering- two voices- and the faint 'pinkt' sound.

He peeked around the corner, and spotted the twins sitting together, passing the ball back and forth between them.

"No fair!" Peter cried out, "That's like, cheating!" He said indignantly, while the two other boys startled at being found.

"No it isn't," one of them cried, the one with black hair that could fly.

"Yeah, we're playing the game fair and square," the other white-haired boy continued, "We're just…"

"Bending the rules," his brother finished, smiling unrepentantly.

Peter shot out his arm, shooting a web at the ball and pulling it from their hands, "Well, it's mine now!" He cackled as he crawled as he fast as his little limbs could up the ventilation shaft above him. He knew the fast, white-haired boy couldn't follow him as quickly if he went up, and hopefully the flying boy couldn't fly as fast as Peter could crawl.

Peter could hear the sound of arguing voices and pushing, bustling bodies below him, but he'd disappeared over the edge of a chute before the two little boys could see which way he'd gone.

Peter tossed the ball in the air a few times after crawling out of the vent, the ball continuously making noises as he caught it anew. He frowned, well that was cheating a bit, but he wanted to make things even. Those other boys had cheated, and he didn't like that. A voice in his head told him that he shouldn't cheat in retaliation, he should win fair and square, and prove that cheating didn't mean winning. He stopped tossing the ball, and turned towards the stairs.

The game continued as Peter ran into his friends a little while later.

Peter ended up being chased by the other two boys, Nova and Luke, and a third who was likely Danny. He giggled happily as he was outrunning all three by a lot, but shrieked suddenly when Kurt and Kitty appeared before him.

Peter was so surprised by the sudden appearance of the two in front of him, he couldn't stop himself from running right into them. They all lay sprawled on the ground for a second, before three other bodies landed on top of them. Peter grunted in surprise as the air was knocked out of him, but began to laugh as he pictured them all flailing about like babies, trying to get the ball from Kurt. The others were laughing too.

Peter couldn't remember the last time he'd ever had this much fun. If he'd given it more thought, he'd have decided that never in his life had he enjoyed himself so much, but he was too busy trying to get the ball to think about that.

The pile of kids on top of Peter seemed to shift slightly, and Peter looked around, noticing that Kurt had disappeared. Looking around, he spotted something blue by the kitchen, and as soon as Luke got off of him, he raced after the blue boy, the others following after.

Peter had just stopped a moment as the game progressed, children running around the living room as the adults talked and watched, to get a juice from the table full of what his dad called 'kid-friendly' drinks when he heard the sound of glass breaking. Looking over towards the living room, he spotted where Steve had bumped into a table trying to get out of Luke and Danny's way as the boys had run by, and on the floor lay shattered glass.

"That's it!" Clint called in a loud voice from the middle of the living room, "Kids, we're going to the training room. C'mon!" the archer gestured at them to follow, and, making sure that everyone was standing, he made his way to the stairs. Peter thought this was a little odd, since the training room was two floors up, and wouldn't it be easier to take the elevator?

Peter noticed two other kids he hadn't seen yet, a girl wearing a pink shirt covered in cartoon ants, and another boy who… was staring at him.

Peter jerked away in surprise, before smiling sheepishly at the boy. He turned back and began running after Clint who had disappeared around the corner.

Peter ended up at the back of the group with the boy who had been staring at him. He saw the girl in the pink shirt disappear through the stairwell door, and was two seconds away from following when his senses told him to move out of the way. However, they weren't quick enough this time apparently because the boy beside him had grabbed his arm and was dragging him towards a closed off room- ironically, it was Peter's bedroom.

The boy lightly shoved Peter in, and shut the door, closing the two of them into darkness. Peter breathed lightly, his senses flickering between foe and friend.

Even though Peter's senses were pretty above-average, the room was basically pitch black, and only his senses and the sounds of the other boy shuffling around in the dark told Peter what exactly the boy was attempting to do at the moment; turn on a light. Peter walked over towards where he could vaguely see his lamp sitting on his nightstand, and flipped the switch on.

The other boy immediately ran at Peter and jumped on his back, slapping his hand over Peter's mouth and switching the lamp back off, all while Peter flailed around helplessly, trying to get the other boy off of him.

"Shh! Would you shut up already?" the boy whisper-shouted into Peter's ear, "They might hear you!"

Peter wrenched the hand covering his mouth away, "Nobody's listening! Now would just get off me already please?!"

The other boy clung tighter to Peter's back, scrambling slightly and throwing Peter even more off balance, "Not _them_! Are ya' stupid or something? I'm talking about the readers," Peter could practically hear the 'why am I talking to this idiot?' in the boy's tone.

"What does that even mean?" Peter asked, getting annoyed, "Look, would you get off of me? I don't even know your name!"

Peter could feel the other boy's gaze boring into him, "Pfft, of course you know my name! Everybody knows my name! I've got my own movie now-"

The other boy dropped off of him so suddenly that Peter wobbled before tripping over a shirt that'd been left on the floor. Dad kept telling him he should pick his clothes up; maybe he'd listen this time.

"Of course, you've got, like, what? Five movies already? Man, that's _so_ unfair! And my movie's R-rated, so I can't even go see it!" The boy pouted.

Peter huffed, completely confused, "I'm gonna turn the light on; please don't turn it off."

The light flicked back on, and Peter got a real good look at the crazy boy he was occupying the room with.

He had a messy mop of blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and his face was covered in scratch marks, like he'd played a little too rough one day.

The two boys stared at each other, the mood in the room turning quiet for a moment.

Peter frowned, "You still haven't told me your name, though," he perked up a bit, "I'm Peter! Peter Benjamin Banner. Who are you?"

The other boy stared at him, looking slightly confused, "Why… why are you…?"

Peter's head tilted to the side slightly when the boy didn't finish, "Why am I what?"

"You… I thought you hadn't gotten a good enough look at me. Like the others. They didn't- they never want to play with me, cuz they've seen my face," he stared sheepishly at the wall, avoiding Peter's gaze.

Peter frowned again, "Why would they not wanna play with you cuz of your face?"

An exasperated sigh answered him back, "Cuz I'm ugly, I've got all these scars and people think I'm freaky. But it's not my fault! I got sick, and when they healed me better, I got scars. So, it's not my fault"

Peter thought a moment, really looking at the other boy, before stepping towards him, and grabbing the boy's face. The other boy tensed, but warily let Peter turn his head left, right, up and down. He began to laugh when Peter plugged his nose and opened his mouth, looking inside for… something.

"What are you doing?" the boy asked, his nose still plugged between Peter's fingers, making his voice come out nasally.

Peter took a step back, giggling softly, "Well, I just had to check. Don't know what those other people were talking about, really. You don't look ugly to me at all, you look nice actually," Peter frowned before saying, "but your nose is full of boogers. Is it like that a lot? Cuz I bet that's why people say that. Boogers are gross."

The boy stared at him a moment, before grinning so widely, Peter thought it might break through his cheeks and fall off his face. And once again, he was being tackled by the other boy, wrapped around by limbs that might as well have been metal bars. Peter barely had time to catch himself to keep the two of them from falling.

"My name's Wade," the other boy exclaimed happily, "and you're now my bestest friend in the whole entire dimension- not even Ryan Reynolds could be as best a friend as you!"

Peter grunted under the pressure of the arms wrapped around him. This kid was weird- beyond weird, who the heck was Ryan Reynolds?!- but Peter thought it might be worth it to be his friend, because a) this Wade kid kind of grew on him after a while- I mean, literally. He was like a barnacle, just latching on and sticking to Peter every chance he got, what the heck?!- and 2) Peter had never had a best friend before. The other children he'd met today were the first ones he'd played with in… Peter couldn't remember a time when he'd actually played with other children. There must've been a day…? However, even the other children here tonight were a little shy around Peter; they didn't know him very well yet, and many of them like Kurt and Kitty, and Luke, Nova and Danny, were already friends with each other. Peter didn't yet have his own friend, so maybe… even if this kid who was currently suffocating him was a little strange, he seemed to like Peter, and that's all that really counted.

Two hands grabbed Peter's face, and the other boy's head pressed against his, "Do you like kittens?"

"Wha- erh, I don't know," Peter answered confused, "Should I?"

Wade pulled back slightly and shook his head vehemently, before slamming his forehead back into Peter's.

"Ow!" Peter finally lost his balance, and the two fell to the floor.

Wade quickly jumped up, looking down at Peter, "And what are your thoughts on cows?" he asked suspiciously.

Peter held his aching forehead, "Why do you care?! Are we gonna head up to the training room or what? They've probably already started the game without us," Peter pouted.

Wade just grinned widely, shaking his head.

Before Peter could stop him, the blonde boy cackled and jumped over Peter towards the lamp.

The lights went out again.

* * *

**AND THERE'S KID DEADPOOL.**

**Did you guys like that? Was kid Deadpool accurate? I've never written Deadpool before, have yet to see the movie, and I haven't read a lot of fanfics with him in them, at least not any recently. SO, obviously my Deadpool writing might be questionable. Please forgive!**

**FINALS WEEK!**

**It's finals week at my college (Summer quarter math class is ending its reign of terror, hurrah!) and I /really/ need to focus on math- and also my job. Oh yeah, oops. Forgot I had one of those! *Slams head into desk* Stupeed.**

**SECOND POLL FOR BRUCE RELATIONSHIP!**

**Ok, so last chapter we had a poll for whether the pairing should be Bruce/Tony or Bruce/Natasha. EowynPevensie90 told me how to actually make a poll, so that'll be... in my bio, I guess? Any votes posted as a comment will be counted as well, in case I messed it up, or some of you guys miss this message. ALSO, IF YOU VOTED ON THE LAST CHAPTER, THAT'S OK. YOU CAN VOTE AGAIN, AND I'LL COUNT BOTH VOTES!**

**Alright, that's everything for now. I always have a few things that I want to say in my author's notes while I'm writing the chapters, but I COMPLETELY FORGET THEM by the time I get to the end of the chapter! How FREAKING ANNOYING!**


	19. Chapter 14

**I'm back!**

**Sorry I haven't updated in a few days, but it was finals week for my summer quarter math class and I literally got a total of 7 hours of sleep in TWO days. 3 on Tuesday night, and 4 on Wednesday. It was a two-part two-day final. It was hell. I'm pretty sure I failed the second test. Please, please cross your fingers, dot your eyes, pray, whatever.**

**WADE/PETEY DIALOGUE HEAVY CHAPTER- SORRY IF IT SUCKS, PLEASE ENJOY ANYWAYS.**

* * *

"C'mon!"

"No."

"Wha- Are you kidding me? It's super easy!"

"Wade, I said no."

The boy sighed in answer, "Look, how hard is this to understand? All you have to do is jump off. Simple!"

Peter stared at the crazy boy, "If you think it's so easy, why don't you do it?!"

Wade paused, a moment, seemingly to think this over, "Okay," he said as he went to take a step off the roof of Avengers Tower.

Peter grabbed him, and pulled him back by his shirt collar just as Wade grinned, his "Wheeee!" getting choked off.

"Are you crazy?!" Peter yelled, "You don't even have anything like my webs to catch you!"

Wade sighed and gave Peter a condescending look, "Of course I'll have something to catch me. I've just been introduced into the story, the author wouldn't let me die off immediately, duh."

Peter shook his head at his new friend's crazy trains of thought, "'The Author'? You're crazy," Wade went to get back up before Peter pulled him back, "but you can't throw yourself off a building, expecting something to magically catch you," Peter sighed, "Alright, I'll do it. But you have to hold on to me. You can't jump off by yourself, okay?"

Wade just grinned back, suddenly giddy.

Peter frowned; honestly, he'd never jumped off anything so high before. He'd been up high before, like that time he climbed the clock tower back in Latveria, or the helicarrier, or even when he'd been on the back of Clint's sky-cycle, then leapt into his Dad's green arms. Even so, none of that had anything to do jumping off a skyscraper. With his dad, they'd only been a story or two off the ground, and his dad or any of the others would've caught him way before he hit the ground.

Wade tugged Peter closer to the edge until they both stood a few inches from a sudden drop.

Peter took a calming breath, he could do this; he knew he could. Looking up, Peter saw Wade watching him, and blushed slightly at being caught. He'd been trying not to show any fear about it, but…

"Hey, baby boy, it's not gonna be that bad. If anything, I've got it a lot worse," Peter stared at Wade, the boy having suddenly become serious and almost… sane. Peter relaxed a bit, taking a step back- before a lurch pulled him off the side of the building, "I'm not the main character!"

And just like that, Peter was falling and screaming, Wade latched onto his back and laughing maniacally.

Instinct set in and Peter shot a web at the closest building, lurching once more through the air, his lungs suddenly cut off as Wade's arms choked him with the crazy boy's solid hold.

Peter could barely drag them onto the roof of the next nearest building, a short apartment building, before his poor grip on his webs slipped and the two boys tumbled to the gravel rooftop.

Peter lay, stunned and breathing hard at the adrenaline rush, his and Wade's harsh breathing covering up the faint sounds of traffic and life down below.

Wade began to giggle in between his breathing, and soon enough, Peter joined in, both boys giggling and laughing at absolutely nothing. Peter held his sides, aching somewhat at the muscle spasms.

"I *huff* ca-can't remember *huff* the last *huff huff* time I had this much *huff* fun!" Peter's sides ached even more with trying to talk and breathe while his sides shook with laughter.

He turned his head to meet Wade's answering grin, and soon the boys had settled, their breathing calmer and their laughter having subsided.

They stared up at the stars above, or where the stars would've been, had the light pollution from the city far below them not been so bad.

The two boys didn't talk for a bit, but stared at the sky, a comfortable silence settling betweem them.

"I thought you wanted to go beat up some bad guys or something," Peter said quietly, a little hesitant to disturb this peace, which Peter felt was likely a rare thing with the boy beside him.

Wade shrugged, "I like this better," after a moment, he grinned, "Besides, baby boy, your daddy would kill me if I kept you out too much longer, and I can't play with you if I'm in bits and piece!"

Peter shuddered at the thought of his dad tearing a body apart, the sudden, and extremely violent, image a new concept to him.

"Hey, Wade?" Peter asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"So, the woman said that… everyone has abilities, or whatever… so-"

"I can't die!"

Peter turned towards Wade, incredulous, "What?!"

"Well," the other boy sat up, "I haven't actually tested it, but Logan- that's the big scary Lumberjack back at the Tower, he's my DADDY! Mein Vater! My pa, my père, my nurturer, my caregiver, the man who scre-"

"-Wade, what about him?" Peter interrupted the other boy, trying to keep him on track.

"Oh, well, he's lived for centuries; he's, like, a thousand thousand years old, you know?"

Peter's eyes bugged out of his head, "Really?" he asked.

Wade looked at him, his expression completely serious, "Sometimes, when he doesn't think I'm looking, I find him staring at pictures of tires and sliced bread, crying. He's still completely taken aback by the advances in technology these days."

Peter's expression dropped, his voice taking on a sarcastic note, "Uh-huh."

Wade nodded, still completely serious, "Yep. He's that old. And I'm his son!" Wade crowed brightly, grinning widely before dropping a bit in thought, "Well, sort of. He didn't _give birth_ to me," Wade chuckled, gesturing with his hands, "No, my dear Mama did that whole gig all by herself, and _BOY_, is that a story to tell- it all started-"

"-Wade."

"No, no, listen it's a great story. You like blood, right? Well-"

"-No. Stop. Now."

Wade pouted, "Fine," he muttered petulantly under his breath, "It's probably time to head back anyway. We should get back to Avengers' Tower before your dad-

Peter gasped, "Crap!"

Wade gasped as well, smacking a hand over Peter's mouth, "Baby boy, don't say words like that! Gotta keep you innocent and sweet so you can someday be swept off your feet by moi-"

Peter shoved Wade off of him with a grunt, not even bothering to listen to the other boy's weird blabbering, before walking towards the edge of the apartment building they were still standing on, "How are we gonna get down? I don't think I can hold both of our weight for very long and there's nothing close by to land on," Peter felt slightly panicky. They were stuck up here until somebody came to get them. His dad would be so angry with him.

Wade yawned, "Don't worry, baby boy, I'll just use this zappy thing here to get us back," Wade pulled what looked like a thick, and slightly flattened bracelet with a purple light coming from it out of his back pocket that Peter had to wonder how he still had. Considering how Wade had jumped on him earlier, or perhaps when they _jumped off a building_, it was quite the gamble to have kept the bracelet tucked into his back pocket.

"Wait, what does it do?-" Suddenly, a thought occurred to Peter, "_Hey_, if you had that before, why didn't we just use that instead of making me _jump off a building_ and nearly _kill_ us?!"

Wade seemed surprised by this, but stared at the bracelet for a moment before answering with a shrug, "I dunno. Guess it's more fun that way."

Peter spluttered, "But- I… What…" Peter shook his head, "What, what does it even do?"

Wade grinned, looking smug, "Logan calls it a 'telepordation device'- Whatever that means," Wade snorted before latching on to Peter's arm.

Wait, _wait_, do you even know how to work it? How do you know where we're gonna end up? We could be on the other side of the world-!"

"-You worry too much, baby boy," Wade scoffed, fiddling with the bracelet as he held on to Peter.

Peter huffed in annoyance, "Why do you keep calling me that? 'Baby boy', it's stupid sounding."

Wade grinned back at Peter, and for the first time, Peter realized how much taller the other boy was compared to him, "Why, Petey, don't you know already?" Wade tsked, "I thought you would've already picked it up by now, but maybe baby boy _is_ a good name for you afterall. You're so innocent and naïve and cute and-"

"-Wade! What-"

"-and red and blue and spider-ish and silly and slow- but in an adorable way, don't worry-"

"-Wade-"

"-and, like I said, I can't understand why you haven't figured it out already. Obviously, the author has done intensive research into making me accurate to my grown-up, fabulous and beautiful self, and discovered that future me likes to call you "baby boy"- for obvious reasons- so she's written it into the story. Simple," Wade smiled as though this was the most simple, most logical reason for the name in the world. Honestly, it was, but Peter didn't know that.

Peter stared incredulously at Wade, but a quick, "Bonzai!" from Wade, and suddenly the ground beneath them seemed to slip away, leaving Peter in 'mid-air'.

And then they were standing back in Peter's room, as if they had never left.

Peter stumbled a bit as he let go of Wade, falling against his bed, but Wade spun- literally- into Peter's small ©Lego Superheroes set, little Ironman and Hulk figurines falling on the floor.

Wade looked down at the Hulk figurine that had fallen by his hand, "Speak of the devil," he hopped up, "Spidey boy, I do believe I hear someone calling your name!"

Peter stared at Wade, confused. He had senses that were way more advanced than Wade's, or should've been, and he hadn't heard-

"Peter!" a voice called faintly from the hallway outside, "Peter? You in here, buddy? It's time to say goodbye to everyone," his dad called from the other side of the door.

"Uh, yeah!" Peter ran to the door, Wade just behind him, and opened it, looking up into his dad's surprised eyes, "We were just- erh, about to play heroes," Peter stumbled a bit as Wade slung an arm around his shoulders, smiling sweetly up at Bruce.

"Yeah!" Wade smile brightened, "We jumped off a roof and then we were about to go fight bad guys but-"

An elbow to Wade's ribs shut down what he was about to say, "Yeah, with the Legos," Peter smiled innocently, before his expression furrowed, "Hey, dad? Can Wade come over to play again some time? I mean, I, erh, we didn't finish our game, and so, umh…"

Bruce smiled down at his boy, "Of course, Peter. Actually, we were just talking with Professor Xavier and he, uh," Bruce faltered, "Well, maybe we should talk about this a little later," Bruce frowned, before looking at the two confused little boys in front of him, "Well... ok, umh, it's just that... What would you guys think about going to school together?"

Wade and Peter gasped and grinned at each other. They could go to school together?!

Bruce continued, "You'd also be going with all the other children who were here today. It's not decided yet, but Professor Xavier has offered to let non-mutant children like you and Luke Cage and a few of the other kids here to go to his school. That's where those two kids-" Bruce paused, trying to think of the names of the two children.

"Kitty-" Peter put in.

"-and Kurt," Wade added.

Bruce smiled, "Yes, those two. They go to the school as well, so you'd be learning with them."

Peter started to think about being in a whole _school_ full of children just like him, kids who had special powers that made them different from all the normal people.

"But I don't like school," Wade interrupted Peter's thoughts, "It's boring and you have to do and learn boring stuff. They never teach you fun stuff, just history and frog guts and funny words that nobody _ever_ uses really," Wade scoffed.

Bruce just smiled, "Well, this school is really special. You still have to learn all those subjects, yes, but you also learn how to use your abilities," the two boys perked up, "you learn how to control them better, and then you learn how to fight bad guys and work with your classmates-" Peter and Wade started to speak excitedly, "but that's only when you're older. You two are both still too young to be fighting bad guys, but you can start to learn," In all honesty, Bruce didn't actually like the idea of Peter being in a fight and having to deal with what he and the other Avengers went through on their missions. It meant that, unlike just being a civilian who would normally stay out of trouble for the most part, Peter would be throwing himself into danger. Peter could die, just like any of Bruce's teammates, by needlessly putting himself in harm's way. It's not something Bruce like to think about at all… but the boy needed to be around people like him, people who could appreciate what it felt like to be different, and people who could keep up with the boy, with his heightened senses and enhanced body. Somewhere that he'd feel accepted and happy.

Peter noticed Bruce's faltering smile, "Wait, I don't have to go away, do I? You're not gonna make me leave to go to this school, are you?"

Bruce quickly grabbed his son as the child started to tear up, "No! No, shhh, Peter, no, it's alright. The school is a two hour drive outside of the city, but that isn't that bad. By helicopter or if Tony gets involved, it'll probably be barely an hour to get there by air- no, buddy, you're staying right here, with us, your family, ok? Alright?" Bruce wiped the boy's tears, which had begun to fall in earnest, even after hearing the good news that he wouldn't be sent away, unwanted.

Bruce looked over his son's splotchy red face, smiling sympathetically, "I think it must be your bedtime soon here, Mister. Time to say goodbye and then we've gotta rest up for tomorrow. You and Tony are planning on taking a trip to the aquarium tomorrow, remember?"

Peter perked up, having completely forgotten his and Tony's "Grand Wild Sea Life-definitely-not-going-to-set-free-the-octopus Day at the Aquarium Adventure". That's what Tony had written it as on the calendar.

Peter nodded, his eyes still a little red, but his face dried of his tears. He turned to Wade to say goodbye, only to have the boy slam into him, once again wrapping himself around Peter like the barnacle that the boy was.

"Oh, Petey, that was so adorable! Oh, now you're gonna make me cry! Why would you do that, baby boy, why?! Oh, I totally want to go with you to school and meet all your new friends and scare off any creepy cows that're waiting in the shadows to get you! And I wanna go to the aquarium too, and see all the fish and swim with a dolphin or fight the Kraken or-"

A large hand pulled Wade high up into the air by the back of his shirt. The boy hung limply from a tall, scruffy-looking man's grip, looking very much like a puppy hanging from its mother's jowls, "There you are, Squirt," he said, his voice gruff, but his tone surprisingly soft, "I've been looking everywhere for you, Wade. You nearly scared the living daylights out of me. C'mon, it's time to go home. Your sister's probably waiting up on us," the man walked out, still carrying Wade by his scruff, and barely acknowledging the other father and son, except to say, "Thanks for having us. Send me a bill for whatever he broke, cuz he definitely broke something. We'll see you at parent orientation."

He didn't wait for Bruce to answer.

After Peter was tucked in later that night, conked out and curled up against Bruce side, Bruce heard swearing coming from the living room- Tony was probably a little too drunk, since he'd been careful not to swear after Peter had moved in. A loud "Who broke all these dvds?!"

Bruce shook his head, trying not to let his own problems cloud his contentedness of sitting with his son. He'd figure out what direction he wanted to take with all the things that had cropped up tonight, but for now, for tonight, he just wanted to sleep with his little boy curled up peacefully beside him.

* * *

**Purposeful misspelling of 'transportation' back there, so nobody get on my case about it, k?**

**You know, I feel like I kind of skimmed over Peter and Bruce's acceptance of each other. I don't remember ever writing anything to specifically show how much having a father/ having a son is affecting them. Like, not that it changes them in any way, but in my previous story, there was a chapter where both were really excited about getting to call each other father and son. Do you guys feel differently? Is it ok? Lemme know!**

**Wade's sister is X-23, who we're going to call Laura- her alias.**

**So, the broken dvds are these movies: ****_The Amityville Horror_****, ****_the In-Laws_****, ****_Blade: Trinity_****, and ****_Green Lantern_****. Do you know what the correlation is? It involved Ryan Reynolds, but it is ****_not_**** the fact that he stars in them all. It's something else.**

**POLL Ok! I know I promised to have the decision for who Bruce ends up with by this chapter, but I WANT MORE VOTES! C'mon, guys, pleeeease? If you've already voted on the previous two chapters (read the authors notes for more info.), you can vote a THIRD time on this chapter. And I really appreciate reasons! It helps me decide better, if I know that you guys think Bruce and Tony together is super cute, or Natasha and Bruce would just be really great together, etc. etc.**

**What do you think of Petey going to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters?! ALONG WITH THE FUTURE YOUNG AVENGERS, THE ULTIMATES, AND MANY OTHER AWESOME NON-MUTANT HEROES?! How exciting!**


	20. NEW Chapter 15

**Ok, yeah, I know I've been really choppy today, since this is a ****_really_**** short chapter- like, I'm pretty sure the author's note will double the length of the whole chapter.**

**Sorry about that!**

**Ok, but for realsies, this just needed to be separate from the man chapter. I may or may not be creating a new villain. Sort of. Almost. *quiet evil grin***

**REAL QUESTION IS: What's your guys' opinions on The Silence from Doctor Who?**

* * *

The file folder exchanged a number of hands before it reached him.

When he finally read over his newest mission details, he was a bit… dumbstruck, by what his superiors were asking him to do.

SHIELD wanted the son of Bruce Banner.

Having been with the agency for a number of years- five before the Battle of New York and now over a year after- he knew enough about Bruce Banner to know that kidnapping the man's son… wouldn't end well. First off, the man and his son lived with the other Avengers in Avengers Tower, a stark-tech filled death-trap to those who even thought about trying to get through all the security measures and defense systems built into the building had to be either insane, highly motivated, or insane and highly motivated. There was the security and defense of the building itself, and then there was the occupants you'd find at the top- The Avengers. That would be a complete bust. As it was, there was really no way to get at the boy, especially since he didn't seem to leave the Tower very often, and only when accompanied by two or more Avengers.

Looking through the documents again, the agent tried to think up a possible plan of action, who he'd request for his team- because he'd definitely need one- and whose most prominent question: why him?

His was nobody; a little over six years in SHIELD didn't mean much to his fellow agents- really, any number of years with the agency didn't truly mean anything. A double-agent could stay with an agency a lifetime only to betray them at the end. Really, it was agents that distinguished themselves above the rest by going above and beyond the call, those were the ones who would be considered for this kind of job. He couldn't even remember leading an op as strenuous and dangerous as this. Why him, then? Was he going to be a fall guy if the op went wrong? Declared as a double-agent and thrown into a dark cell for listening to his superiors? A scapegoat? He sighed, maybe then, at least somebody would know his name then. Nobody ever seemed able to remember who he was.

He was always called "Agent" or "Sir" or on the rarer occasion "Newbie". Did he just not have a very memorable face that his peers couldn't even remember how long he'd actually been there? Was that why? Well, apparently it was memorable enough to give him Lead on this extremely dangerous, almost suicidal op.

Well, he'd do it. He wasn't going to turn down something like this.

He'd kidnap Peter Benjamin Banner.

* * *

**Your Overlord is a kind and benevolent evil overlord, so fear not! Right, but what was I gonna say...**

**_THE POLL_! The results are in; a question of who Bruce was going to end up with- Natasha or Tony- was put to the readers, and you lot have made your decision...**

**Hold on, actually, I gotta go count them...**

**Oh.**

**Ok.**

**So, guys...**

**I'm actually really surprised, both by the result and by how _freaking close_ that voting was. Literally, we had 21 votes, 10 vs. 11. You guys are gonna give me a heart attack with this, watt teh fudge. Alright, you guys voted...**

_**&amp;^&amp;$%*^$%*#$#%(#^&amp;#)$^(#&amp;$( %# BRUCE/NATASHA )&amp;% #^% #)$&amp; #)(%&amp; #)%$ #$^ $#^ **_

**You know, as much as I was planning on this pairing from the beginning, I actually am almost disappointed to not see Tony/Bruce win. Like, I actually was kinda rooting for it, but you guys have made your choice, and OVERLORD I MAY BE, BUT I ANSWER TO THE WILL OF THE PEOPLE. So, there you go, we're going with Bruce/Natasha (unless you can convince me otherwise... x.0)**

**You didn't think it'd be that easy, did you? That we'd just have this nice little fic where Peter had a sad beginning, but he finds this great family and goes to school with all these other future superheroes and just gets a nicely laid out happily ever after? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA *Begins to choke* HAHA-cough-HA-cough cough- BAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA- cough- HAHAHA**

**no.**

**I AM OVERLORD. I AM RULER OF SPIDEY BOY AND JOLLY GREEN GIANT WORLD. NOTHING IS EVER THAT EASY.**


	21. Chapter 16

**Review Answers:**

**ImaKaraTabiHe**\- I thought that was a kind of funny thing to compare Wade to as well, since barnacles are sometimes considered parasites (whale barnacles are often seen as such, but the actual relationship between the two is more like commensalism). So, as annoying as it is that Wade is so clingy- we'll see more of his clinginess either next chapter or the one after- he's not doing any harm most of the time. I think Peter's super cute too! This chapter he's going to his first day of school! EEEEH! So adorable!

**lifelovelaugh**\- Sorry that it didn't end up being Bruce/Tony (...I want to say something but I'm not going to... I... JUST BE AWARE THAT WHILE THINGS MIGHT NOT GO THE WAY WE HOPE, THAT DOESN'T MEAN THEY WON'T TURN OUT... I'M GONNA SHUT UP NOW, ACTUALLY.). Right, *clears throat* yes, and you mentioned Peter's motto and sass? Yes. Those are keystone parts of his story and his character, so don't worry! They will come in to play at some point or another. Sending Peter to Xavier's school, along with a bunch of other young heroes, is something I've always wanted to see happen, so this is a total dream-come-true for me to write! I'm only a little worried about the layout of the place, but I've done a little research into that, so hopefully it won't be too much of a problem.

**Guest (Chapter 1)**\- I wanted to incorporate some of the original chapters into the new story, but if I still had the original chapters available to read, you'd be able to see the difference. The basic storyline of that particular chapter (Avengers are on a mission in Latveria, Bruce is doing surveillance from a cafe, Bruce sees Peter talk to the old woman, and later meets them in the alley, convinces Peter to come with him) is still there, with little bits of the original thrown in, but I promise, it's a complete revamp. The sweater comments, the language (I gave up on Hungarian, and just made up words) and the conversation between Bruce and Peter, etc. etc.

**Guest (Chapter 4)**\- Peter actually had a lot of trust issues at the beginning of this story, but you're right, he is naturally laid-back and he becomes more trusting as the story continues. I had in mind that the Hulk gene isn't as unstable in Peter as it is in Bruce. I imagine Bruce's Hulk gene to be volatile and fluctuating all the time, while Peter's is ingrained more naturally inside of him, and that means he doesn't have as much as a problem with emotional triggers like his dad.

**Guest (Chapter 5)**\- I think you must have misread that bit. Sorry! It was a bit unclear. So, in the scene, Clint asks Peter if he knows who Bruce is. Peter shakes his head instead of answering. Then, Clint is the one who says that Bruce is the Hulk and explains it to Peter. Sorry! I know that part was written a little funky.

**XAVIER'S SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS YOUNG HEROES EDUCATION ALLIANCE- "The name of the project that Prof. Xavier began with the help of parent and guardian heroes from all over the world- and even the galaxy. The program was created to provide the 'heroes of the future' with a safe learning environment that supports and encourages their abilities in a world that would otherwise expose and persecute them for their unique gifts."**

**A HAIKU:**

**Not a long chapter**

**It's 3 in the morning**

**I have big plans**

**for Peter and Bruce**

**Poor Petey gets a little nervous for a second this chapter, as one usually does when it's your first day of school. Ever.**

* * *

Peter was nervous. More nervous than he'd ever been. Ever. He was pretty sure there had never been a time in his life when he had felt like this, like he was fighting his body with every step he took, like he wanted to cry and run back to Daddy and just forget about this whole thing.

Too late, though, because there went the quinjet, taking off from a landing pad that was hidden amongst the trees, and heading back towards Manhattan. Peter was left walking into the middle of the huge courtyard of Prof. Xavier's Mansion, the professor and a tall man with weird sideburns following behind him.

Peter's breath hitched and he tried not to cry. That'd be so embarrassing and he didn't want to get laughed at on his first day.

"Mr. Banner, are you ready to come inside? School is about to start," the professor gently rolled up next to him in his wheelchair.

Peter's nose scrunched up, nobody had ever called him 'Mr. Banner' before, and it sounded weird. The professor stopped briefly, smiling gently, and Peter suddenly remembered that the man could read minds, so he had probably heard that. He looked at the professor and nodded quickly, before looking back towards the man with the crazy sideburns. Wait a minute, didn't Peter know him from somewhere?

"Who are you?" Peter asked bluntly.

The man made a gruff sound and crossed his arms, "Logan."

Peter thought about this a moment longer, but couldn't place the man, so he followed after the professor into the school.

He'd already been here once before, a few weeks after the party at the Tower. A teacher had given them a tour of the grounds, a woman with really bright red hair, and he had thought the mansion was really cool then, with its swimming pool and underground tunnels and lasers.

That had been a little over two weeks ago, and he now faced the huge, intimidating mansion without the comforting sense of his daddy standing behind him.

As Peter walked behind the professor, he watched as groups of other kids walked, flew, and teleported towards the entrance, many lugging large bags or suitcases behind them.

They varied in age, Peter could spot a number of children with odd skin colors. There was even a boy sitting by the fountain in the center of the circular driveway who had scales.

As Peter walked through the double doors, he had to gasp; even though he'd already seen inside, the place still caught him by surprise. It was just so… fancy. And big. Everything looked like it was meant to go in a museum, not a school for superpowered children who were unfortunately good at breaking things and creating chaos.

And there were definitely a lot of children here. The main foyer was filled to the brim with children, and Peter could see even more of them walking up and down the stairs, and through the halls.

As Professor Xavier entered, a path was quickly cleared for him, Peter and Logan. Peter dwindled back, unsure if he should keep following, but Logan nodded for him to join them. The three walked towards past the stairs and behind where an elevator opened for them.

The space was just big enough to fit the professor's chair and Logan, but there was no room for Peter. The boy frowned slightly, and just as Logan reached down to pick him up, he jumped and latched onto the wall of the elevator, clinging effortlessly above the professor's head. Logan grunted and pressed the button on the small panel while the professor just chuckled, leaning slightly to the side.

The elevator vibrated slightly, seamlessly, and the doors opened once more to show them on the second floor.

The three of them moved out towards the top of the stairwell, waiting as a few students ran down and gathered with the other at the bottom, everyone quieting down.

The professor smiled when the voices were finally silent, "Welcome, students, to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Many of you are returning for another year, and I am very pleased to see you once more; many of you are also here for the first time, and we welcome you, all of us, to our school. In a world where we may be misunderstood and even sometimes persecuted because of the ignorance and fear of others, we have created this… safe haven as a place where students such as yourselves may learn and grow, develop your abilities, your gifts, to better the world," Professor Xavier's voice was so warm and encouraging, it was easy to imagine the bright future ahead of them.

Peter looked at the people in the crowd below as Xavier talked about some new changes this year, looking for Kitty or Kurt amongst the unfamiliar faces. That's what he really needed right now, a familiar face.

Peter felt a chill run down his spine as he suddenly registered the last few words the professor had said. His name had been mentioned- and everyone was now looking at him with new interest.

Peter looked at the professor, taking a step back, closer to Logan.

"Young Mr. Peter," the professor glanced at Peter with a small nod, and Peter felt himself smile back briefly, "is the first to join our school this year as a part of the Young Heroes Education Alliance. This program is… a sort of exchange program, allowing young people with abilities who are _not_ mutants to attend classes and be around other young people who can understand and accept their struggles. Peter is one of seven boys and girls, the majority of whom will be joining us at month's end. Now, I don't want to take up much more of your time, and I know many of you would like to explore the grounds. Please keep in mind where the school boundaries are, and be respectful of the grounds; any damages done to school equipment or facilities should be reported to the nearest faculty member, although I should hope you will all try to make such incidents few and far between," the professor stared down the students in a teasingly stern tone, "Classes begin at 8:30 tomorrow morning, but until then, please enjoy your free time!"

The dismissal and sudden disbursement of people was a relief to Peter, and even more so when Kitty and Kurt appeared at the bottom of the stairs, running up to greet their friend.

"Peter!" Kitty called as they approached, "We were looking all over for you earlier. You're sneaky," she teased, giggling.

Peter smiled at the two, relieved, "Yeah, I got dropped off in the quinjet, but it was in the woods, so you probably wouldn't have seen it."

The two nodded in understanding.

"So, you, erh," Kurt spoke up quietly, his voice heavily accented, "You aren't going to be staying here? You won't be staying in the dorms?"

Peter noticed Kurt carrying a worn, leather duffel bag over his shoulder, the weight of it pulling the blue boy down. Peter nodded, "Yeah, I mean, it'd be cool to be able to hang out with you guys all the time, but I don't want to not see my dad, ya'know?"

The three of them headed down the hall to Kurt's room to drop off his bags before heading downstairs, Kitty asking Peter what he'd like to go see first. Both Kitty and Kurt had started school at Xavier's at the same time nearly two years ago. They were two of the youngest students at the school, both only a year older than Peter. As such, Kitty had appointed them as Peter's personal guides for the day. She was a little chagrined to here that Peter had already had a tour, but Peter said he had yet to see the sports field or any of the backyard- if the grounds behind the mansion could even be called a "backyard".

The three children spent the day playing wall ball and tag in the grass behind the mansion, sometimes joining another group of children's game or challenging some older kids to a game of tag. When the tag game got a little too intense, a teacher walked down from the house to tell them it was time to play something a little less destructive. Kitty and Kurt finally introduced Peter to their friend, Bobby, who joined them just before the tag game ended. Peter had a fantastic time playing with his new friends, especially when they found their way into the hedge maze. Kurt tried to cheat by transporting, but ended up even more lost than if he had just explored like the others.

They ended their fun when lunch was called, but came back to finish the afternoon searching a small stream in the woods for fish to catch. They ended up finding a few lizards, which probably weren't lizards, and Kurt got a blue jay to land on his head.

All in all, the day was one of the best Peter had ever had.

When Peter heard the familiar intermittent whirring of the quinjet, he told his friends, and they quickly made their way back towards the courtyard where they said their farewells for the day, and Peter made his way towards the wooded clearing.

Waiting to greet him was none other than Tony.

"Tony?" Peter asked in confusion, a little disappointed it wasn't his dad there to pick him up, "Where's my Daddy?

Tony jogged over to Peter, crouching down and grabbing him around the ribs, the boy's senses not warning of the imminent threat. Peter squealed as Tony attacked him with tickles- his one true weakness.

It was something the man had discovered not long after Peter had begun to hang out with him in his lab. Peter had been falling asleep on his stool, leaning dangerously to one side. So, when Peter began to fall off the stool, he'd been lucky that Tony was so close to catch him in his sleepy state. Unfortunately for Peter, Tony grabbed the boy around his ribs, and Peter had reacted instantly. His arms and legs immediately turned to jelly as he flipped out against Tony's side, his normally superhuman strength reduced to a normal child's weak protests.

Tony had been so surprised, he'd nearly dropped Peter at the time, and the boy had taken that opportunity to run for it.

Bruce had been rather confused when he found Tony sneaking around about an hour later, carrying a butterfly net and muttering about "wabbit hunting season".

Back to the tickling at hand, Tony had finally let up, and Peter limply clung to his leg, high-pitched giggles and tremors still running through his body.

Tony grabbed Peter once more, careful to avoid tickling him, and carried the boy on his hip. Peter was a walking contradiction like that; He was incredibly light, weighing only as much as a microwave at times, and a little small for his age, but he had strength enough to take on Captain America- almost. Not that he used his strength very often; in fact, it was almost like he sometimes forgot he was so strong.

"Well, I beat him to it," Tony broke himself out of his musings to answer Peter's original question, "Your daddy would be leaving just about right now, but I snuck out right under his nose so I could pick you up myself," Tony grinned at him, the afternoon sun warming his hair to a very dark brown color instead of its usual black, "I was hoping to take you out for some ice cream and talk about your first day," Tony carried Peter up into the waiting jet, setting him in the copilot's seat as he took up his own seat, "What'd you think of it? Did you make any friends?"

Peter began to tell Tony about what happened that day, talking about all the fun he'd had exploring the hedge maze with his friends, finding lizards by the stream- Tony informed him that they probably weren't lizards but actually newts, a reptile that liked to spend time in the water- and making friends with Bobby.

Tony listened, inputting funny comments here and there, but mostly letting Peter talk. They ended up at a small Mom and Pop ice cream parlor in an ever smaller town, and were gawked at as they walked out of their jet. Tony had parked in the lot beside the shop, and strolled into the parlor like it was the most normal thing in the world.

For him, it was.

After a Spaghettieis sundae, and an old leather bag that Peter begged Tony to buy in a shifty-looking pawn shop, they were flying home, Peter sleeping soundly in the copilot's seat.

Tony scoffed quietly to himself, "If he wanted a bag for school, we could've given him a Stark Industries smart bag. But he wanted the ugly leather briefcase. Why? I don't know," Tony quieted his annoyed muttering a moment as Peter shifted slightly in his sleep.

The older man smiled, pressing the autopilot button for a moment, before stepping over to help situate Peter in his seat a little better. The boy's neck was at an extreme angle that made Tony worry a little, but he didn't seem to mind too much. Tony stared down at Peter, watching him as he slept peacefully. Tony smiled, brushing a bit of choppy brown locks out of the boy's closed eyes. Tony put on his to do list 'make an appointment for hairdresser for Peter', and then leaned down, kissing the top of the boy's head affectionately.

* * *

**Ok, so I kind of skipped describing X-Mansion, BUT if you would like to see what I'm referencing, look up Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters on Wikipedia. I used the **

**X-Men Annual Vol 2 1 Inside the **

**for reference. It's the layout that was the big red "(inside the) X-MANSION" down the left side. (TO BE CLEAR, I DO NOT OWN THIS IMAGE, I'M JUST USING IT AS A PRACTICAL REFERENCE POINT.)**

**Also, I'm sorry I haven't updated in forever!**

**Also, I feel like Xavier's speech was a little too Magneto humans-hate-mutants! kind of speech, but I'm hoping I avoided that. Your guys' thoughts?**

**Spaghettieis is one of my FAVORITE desserts ever! If you _ever_ felt the urge to eat play-doh as a kid, or an adult, look it up! Try some if you get the chance!**

_**Also, do I even need to let you know that I don't own Marvel. Or the Avengers. Or Spiderman/Peter. Or the X-men. Or Marvel. I don't think I do, but here's a reminder anyway.**_


	22. Chapter 17

**You guys might not much care for this chapter. I don't know if I even want to post it. ****SUPER dialogue heavy and I tried to write out Professor Xavier's lecturing over the thing that happens, but then I kept confusing myself and I had to look back and think about why I was even writing this, like, what's the connection to where I wanted to get to?!**

**Ok, whoever requested that I include the "With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility", I included that, but I think I cost the chapter trying to work it in**

**Ughhhhh, anyway, read.**

**Enjoy. **

**Gag on a spoon. (Actually, don't do that please. That could be really bad. I don't want you guys to choke! Be safe, everyone!)**

**I'm exhausted. Goodnight, my good people.**

* * *

Wade showed up at school the next day, cackling and swinging from the chandeliers.

Literally, as Peter walked in, he found his friend high up above the ground, swinging precariously from the ancient chandelier that hung above the foyer. Most everyone was watching from the sides of the room, attempting to avoid the chandeliers path once it eventually smashed to the ground in a spectacular explosion of glass and bent metal. Peter bravely walked forward, his senses surprisingly quiet as he walked right underneath the giant, swinging light fixture.

Peter just sighed exasperatedly, "Wade, what're you doing? How'd you even get up there?"

The swinging chandelier slowed, as the boy stopped his swinging, staring down at Peter with a huge grin on his face.

"You're here!" for a second, Wade attempted to sit up from where he was dangling upside down from one the fixture's metal bars, but the boy had gotten himself sufficiently stuck, his foot wedged in a metal curl, and he began to jerk at his foot, tugging as hard as he could to get it free

Soon, the blonde boy seemed to give up and flopped backwards staring at the floor below him, "A little help here, Baby Boy?" He grinned down at Peter, his hair hanging down and away from his face, giving him an odd, little mane around his head.

Peter just snorted, shaking his head at his friends antics and began to climb up the wall, making his way towards the top of the chandelier.

The other students below them seemed to realize that nothing interesting was going to happen at this point, and began to move on, heading in all different directions.

Peter slowly climbed down the chandelier chain, sneezing slightly at the how dusty it was, and made his way over to Wade.

"You're so dumb. Do you know how much trouble you're going to get in for this?" Peter scoffed, as he attempted to free Wade's foot.

The other boy merely grinned, bending so that his back was like the inside of a crescent moon, and looked up at Peter, "Trouble is my middle name! So is Danger. And Phillips Screwdriver," Wade looked thoughtful for a moment, "Besides, how much trouble could I get in for hanging from a chandelier? It's not like it dropped or anything-" Wade slapped his hands over his mouth, before mumbling out a quick, "Please don't let the author have heard that.

Peter looked at the other boy for a second- before the chandelier groaned ominously and dropped out from under them.

Peter and Wade both screamed as they dropped the 25 feet to the floor below, only to stop midair.

The young woman who gave Peter and his dad a tour of the school stood below them, her hand outstretched, seemingly the one to have caught them. Apparently, someone had finally notified a teacher of what was going on. They floated midair, before suddenly dropping once more, the chandelier still floating above them.

Both boys yelped, caught unceremoniously by their shirt collars by Logan.

The tall, gruff man had a murderous look in his eyes.

"Wade, what have you done now?" he spoke through gritted teeth, caring them away towards the professor's office after a nod from the woman.

Wade laughed nervously, rubbing his head as he attempted to come up with a good excuse, ''Well, you see, ermh, there was this cat- kitten! Actually, and it was red and blue and had a spider on it, and I thought it was Petey-"

Logan growled, "Cut the crap, Bub. Xavier won't be happy about you nearly destroying his light fixtures, so you can save the bull for him."

Peter looked between the two, trying to remember something that was niggling at the back of his head. Wasn't Logan the man who'd brought Wade to the party? Wade had said that he was his dad, didn't he? But the two didn't look anything alike. They were complete opposites, both in looks and in personality. Plus, Logan didn't seem like a dad to Peter. More like the scary men daddy's told their kids to stay away from.

The boys were soon dispensed upon the Professor's carpet, scrambling to their feet as they noticed the official looking man in a black suit sitting in the comfy-looking chairs in front of Xavier's desk. The Professor himself had a very dangerous expression on his face, and the atmosphere in the room was so tense, Peter's senses were on high alert.

The boys waited quietly as Xavier asked the man to kindly leave the premises, his voice deadly calm.

As the man walked out, Peter looked at him a little closer. He was… odd, for some reason. There was something about his face that was… off, and he also looked directly at Peter as he passed him.

As soon as Peter looked away from his face, though, he realized he had more important things to think about.

The two boys stood before the Professor's desk, their heads down as the man gave them a hard look.

The door closed, and the room fell silent.

"Swinging from the chandelier," Xavier began, addressing Wade, "is not a behavior we condone at this school. Property damage aside, you could have seriously injured yourself, and your friend," he gestured briefly towards Peter, "and that is unacceptable. Mr. Howlett, here at this school, we teach our students to control their abilities and grow as people. We wish to teach you children the responsibility of having your abilities, and the good that you may do with them. Putting yourself as well as your fellow students in danger is against everything we are trying to teach here at this institute. Do you understand?" the Professor paused, staring deep into the boy's eyes, "Yes, you will receive punishment," Wade spluttered, but Xavier waved him off, "I understand you don't want to upset your father," Peter frowned at this seemingly random thought, "but I also want you to know how much you scared him in there," Peter caught his friend's surprised expression, "Wade, your father cares deeply for you, and your sister, and he felt genuine fear when he saw you falling from the chandelier," another pause, "that may be, but he can still be worried for your safety. No matter your abilities, it is still his duty to protect you from pain. You scared him; anger is a secondary emotion, used to hide pain or fear. He's angry with you, yes, but only because he cares about you enough to be afraid for you," the Professor paused, seemingly wanting to say more, "Well, if that is all, I expect to see you tomorrow morning before class. You'll be helping with kitchen duty every morning for the following week, so try not to stay up too late, or else suffer for it in the morning," the Professor's lips quirked in an almost mischievous smirk, and the blonde boy, who had yet to speak a word, huffed frustratedly.

The Professor dismissed Wade and, as soon as the door closed, turned his unwavering gaze to Peter.

~Uh-oh, Peter thought, looking down a bit.

"Mr. Banner-" the Professor paused, "Pardon, Peter, while your behavior today did meet the standards we expect of our students-"

Peter's head shot up, he wasn't expecting that.

"-Yes, Peter," the Professor smiled gently at the boy, "You were most definitely using your abilities to help your friend was a good, and brave thing to do, considering you knew the chandelier wouldn't be able to support you and Mr. Howlett for very long."

Peter nodded, "Yeah, I could feel that it was gonna fall soon, but Wade was stuck, and even if I didn't try to help him, he'd fall with the chander- chande-"

"-Shan-deh-leer."

Peter nodded, "Yeah, I knew he'd just fall with it, so I thought I should just help him quickly enough that, umh, he wouldn't fall," he finished lamely.

The Professor nodded, "And that was very noble of you. In those sorts of situations, where we don't have limited time to think of all our options and then even less time to follow through, it's important to stand by our decisions, even if that decision turned out to be wrong," Xavier paused, "You weren't wrong to try to help your friend, Peter, but climbing up onto the chandelier with him, putting him in even more danger, as well as yourself, was not your only option. You're smart enough to know that a teacher or other faculty member would have been close enough to help you, without you needing to endanger yourself. No matter your intentions, your decision could have been disastrous had Jean and Logan not shown up to help."

Peter nodded, "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking-"

"-No, Peter, don't turn your back on your decision," the Professor held up a hand to stop the boy, "we take responsibility and we accept our mistakes, we don't make excuses for them, you see?"

Peter nodded, still a little confused, but not willing to admit it.

Xavier smiled at the boy, "You know, I once had a very interesting conversation with a man about taking responsibility for one's actions," the Professor moved out from behind the desk and gestured for Peter to follow as they left his office, out a side door and outside to stroll the grounds, "he was only 23, heading off to war, and he was leaving behind a fiancé and a little brother, his only family in the world. He had never held a gun in his life, and yet out of all the soldiers in that bar- erh," the Professor stumbled over his words a bit, "establishment, he seemed the calmest. While all his fellow soldiers were laughing and dancing and drinking, he sat at a small table reading a book- To Kill a Mockingbird. He looked so out of place, you might as well have placed him in a pink dress with a poodle on his head," the Professor joked, trying to get the boy to laugh.

Peter giggled at the idea of a man wearing a dress over his army clothes with a fluffy poodle laying uncomfortably across his head.

Xavier continued as they passed the basketball courts, a group of girls and a few boys playing a game of H-O-R-S-E, "We talked for a good portion of the night, and just before he headed off to the base, he told me one of the most profound things I have ever heard."

Peter waited for the man to continue, but when he didn't, the boy pressed him, "What'd he say, Professor?"

"He said, 'With great power comes great responsibility.' Although he had never taken a life before, he knew that life was precious, that taking life wasn't something he ever wished to be responsible for. The guns he would be fighting with may have given him the power to kill, but it wasn't his right to do so."

Peter thought about this for a moment, before asking, "What happened to him, then? He was sent off to war, so didn't he have to fight and kill people? Isn't that what you do in a war?"

The Professor shook his head, stopped, and turned to Peter, "He received new orders the following morning. He would receive a further 3 months of training for military police, and then help patrol the U.S. Embassy in Saigon, the capital city of S. Vietnam at the time. He was discharged and sent back home after 2 years of working in Saigon. He was one of the fortunate ones, too," Peter watched as the Professor lost himself in memories of wars long past.

"Professor?" Peter asked hesitantly, wondering what all this had to do with him.

"His words, Peter, what were his words?" the Professor quizzed him, giving him a knowing look.

Peter blanched, trying to remember what the Professor had said, "Umh, he said, erh, because greatness is so… strong, we have to be careful with it?" Peter guessed.

Xavier laughed, "Not quite, but close. 'With great power comes great responsibility.' Remember that, and don't ever forget it. You may have the power to do what you wish, but that doesn't give you the right to. It is hard to know which decision we make is the best decision, but you'll soon learn in time. You had the power to help your friend, but that doesn't mean that was the best decision. Do you understand?" the Professor looked meaningfully at Peter, searching his thoughts for clarity and understanding.

The boy grew thoughtful, trying to swim through the grown-up speech with all its adult logic and words. With great power comes great responsibility, he said. Just because Peter can do something doesn't mean he should. Like when Uncle Clint put his bow and arrows away on the top shelf of the cabinet, and Peter climbed up and took them down to play with. Both Uncle Clint and Daddy were really angry about that. He wasn't supposed to do that, even though it was easy for him to do.

Xavier nodded, reading the boy's thoughts and understanding as he made the connection, "Now, Peter, it would be unfair to your friend if you did not also receive reprimanding for the same error of putting yourselves in harm's way, but since you already have to wake up by 7 in the morning just to get here, we'll be suspending your recess privileges for the week," Peter gasped at the unfairness, but the Professor put up his hand with a knowing look.

Peter sighed, "Accept responsibility for your actions, I know…" he bemoaned his punishment. He'd much rather wake up really, really early and wash dishes with Wade than be stuck inside during recess.

"Alright," Xavier said brightly, "Now, if I'm not mistaken, class starts in five minutes. You better hurry if you don't want to be late for art class. Mr. Nikolai appreciates students being on time," Xavier smiled as he watched the boy dash off towards the closest entrance… before running right back.

"Wait, why didn't you tell all that to Wade as well? Why just me?"

The man seemed to think for a moment, "Mr. Howlett is a bright, young man, but my words wouldn't have connected with him quite as well as they seemed to do with you. He will learn his own lessons overtime, but they must be his own."

Peter nodded, seeming to take this in, "Oh, alright. Umh, well, I'm gonna head to class now. Professor, but thanks for talking with me," Peter smiled brightly.

The Professor nodded, and watched as the boy ran back towards the door, before turning back to his office.

"Professor?!"

Xavier looked back once more, "Yes?"

"Who was he? The man you met, I mean?" Peter asked.

Xavier seemed to contemplate this for a moment before answering, "Ben. His name was Ben, and he was a good man."

"Did he ever do it? Use his gun?"

Xavier smiled, "No, never."

The boy nodded before disappearing inside finally.

Xavier smiled sadly, thinking back to that young man he'd met. During the Vietnam War, he'd still had a small pull in the gov't, and had been able to send the man to Saigon as guard detail in the embassy there. He had seen in the man's own mind his willingness to die without firing a shot. Throughout the war, Xavier kept tabs on the young man, and when he saw the tide begin to turn, he used his resources to have the young man discharged with full honors and sent home to his family.

Ben, a good name. A family name. Xavier smiled, Peter Benjamin Banner.

* * *

**Ok, I swear, next chapter will ACTUALLY have something interesting going on, k?**

**Don't kill me, babes! I'm just an exhausted, hungry, and extremely broke college student overlord! (I should get that written on a t-shirt or something)**

**I love you, I want to flirt with y'all. I need sleep. Save me.**


	23. Chapter 18

**Ok, you guys have GOT to listen to this! I usually can't concentrate on my writing when I listen to music that has lyrics, and LOOK WHAT I FOUND:**

**Lucas King's 'Sad Piano Music- Homeland | Piano Performance'**

**This is so BEAUTIFUL!**

**~~~Peter is beginning to trust people, and his true character is coming out. He's... guys, he's a hugger. I love huggers. They hug me. I love Peter. I would love a hug from Babes Peter, wouldn't you?!**

**~~~First grade class schedule is hard enough to figure out, but add in the fact that Peter is a superpowered youngster _genius_ who is going to an academy specifically for superpowered youngsters just like him. Yeah, it was a little complicated. I took lots of notes on what classes are offered at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, and who teaches what, so that's what his schedule is based off of.**

**~~~Also, Xavier's school doesn't use the general outline for how schools should be run according to the U.S. education system, because, as well all know, the U.S. educational system SUCKS. S. U. C. K. S. I've been saying that for years, along with all my fellow students. Xavier's school, although based in New York state, is based on personal pacing and the needs of the student, which makes it kick*ss! So, Peter and his friends are "1st graders" but they'll be learning at their pace, so I doubt they'll stay at that level for long. Peter is also, for some reason, the only kid at the school who is taking the "Flight Training" class. I'm making that class into more of a mentoring program for Peter, and although I'm sure that there are a few students who can _actually_ fly, we're going to assume that they decided they didn't need help with their ability, and took up arts and crafts instead!**

**PLEASE NOTE: I wrote the school as not having a lot of students yet. This was mainly so I didn't have to write a lot of students into the scenes, cuz I'm uuuuuber lazy. As you well know!**

**YOU'RE HERE FOR A STORY SO LET THE WILD RUMPUS START!**

* * *

Unlike the day before where Peter spent the afternoon exploring and playing with his friends, today was the first day of classes. He made it to Geography with a few seconds to spare and a stern look from the teacher- a tall, blue and furry man with soft voice.

Because there were so few students Peter's age, almost all his classes were made up of just his small group of friends- Kitty, Kurt, Bobby and Wade. In the morning, they had Geography with Dr. McCoy- the blue, furry man, then History with Logan and Language Arts with Ms. Frost- whom the boys soon fell in love with, much to Kitty's annoyance. After lunch, the little group played outside for a little while before going to Close Quarters Combat- erh, P.E.- with Logan. The day ended with a math class from Scott Summers and a class of their choice, although Peter didn't remember getting to choose one.

This last class of the day was where Peter separated from his friends. He walked down a quiet corridor, looking at the little slip of paper Mr. Summers had given him which showed the way to get to his next class- Flight with Mr. Beaubier. Peter thought it was a little weird that he was placed into a class that had to do with flying, since he couldn't fly. Being separated from his friends also made Peter pretty nervous, and so far, there hadn't been anyone around in this part of the school.

Peter walked up to a small door cramped into a corner that he could tell wouldn't lead to any classroom. Even so, Peter was curious, and opened the door… to what appeared to be a small broom closet. Peter frowned, wondering if Mr. Summers was playing a mean joke on him, but as soon as he had stepped in to the closet, the world around him disappeared and he reappeared somewhere totally different.

Peter had been teleported out into the deep woods, where a tall man with dark hair and slightly pointed ears stood alone, staring down… over a cliff. Peter approached the stranger carefully, looking over the cliff to see tall trees below spreading out for a good few miles or so in every direction.

"Hello," the man turned to Peter, smiling. He had an odd accent that Peter had never heard before, but it made his voice sound almost… sweet? Peter couldn't describe it.

Peter shyly stepped closer, "Hi."

The man looked at the place Peter had been standing, "Xavier did say that there was only one student who might be taking my class, but one student is enough, yes?" he looked at Peter with a bright smile.

Peter was a little confused when the older man sat down on the ground, the heels of his feet sticking out over the edge of the cliff as he lounged back on the grass.

"Umh," Peter stood awkwardly, wondering what he was supposed to do. Was this his teacher then? Weren't classes supposed to be taught in classrooms? Was this like P.E. where they had class in the gym? But, why was the man just sitting there? In the grass? Shouldn't he be… teaching him?

The man looked at Peter, seemingly surprised to find the boy still standing, "Well, c'mon, sit down. I don't bite," He smiled, putting Peter at ease.

The boy sat down, his nerves very aware of the cliff directly in front of him, "What are we doing?"

The man quirked his brow, "We're sitting."

"Yeah, but why aren't we doing anything?"

"We are."

Peter huffed in exasperation, "Yeah, but isn't this a class? Are you my teacher? What're we supposed to do? Are you gonna teach me how to fly? I can't actually fly; I don't know why I'm in this class if I can't fly," Peter rambled slightly.

The man chuffed a laugh, "Can't fly? You sure about that?"

Peter's nose crinkled in confusion. He was pretty sure he would know if he could fly. He stared at the man, giving him a look that spelled out 'duh'.

He smiled again, knowingly, "Well, what can you do?" Peter had the feeling the man already knew, "Tell me about yourself. Let's talk for a little bit. Since you're my only student, this class will be more of a… mentoring than a class. In order to mentor you, and to teach you to…" he smiled, "Is 'swing' a more accurate term? In order to teach you in these things, I'll need you to trust me. Gravity is a force that all humans, mutant or not, are inherently aware of-"

"-What's gravity?" Peter asked, confused.

The man stopped, before chuckling, "Well, before we get into all that, let's just say that, for me to be your teacher, I need you to trust me, just as much as I need to trust you," the man smiled gently, "Can I trust you, Peter?"

Peter was surprised, but smiled and answered easily, "You can trust me! I'm great with secrets! Yesterday, Bobby told me he had a crus-"

A finger to the man's lips and a hushing sound quieted Peter as he blushed in embarrassment, having almost given away the secret.

The man held out his hand to shake, "Jean-Paul Beaubier, at your service. Most call me Northstar, though. And who might you be?"

Peter's arm flopped about a bit uncomfortably at the firm handshake, but it made him laugh, "Peter Benjamin Banner."

The man laughed, "Your full name?"

"Yeah, you gave your full name, right? John Paul Bow-Bear?"

The older man's face began to turn a bright red color before he burst out laughing, "Non, mon doux!"

The two spent a good minute or two trying to get Peter to pronounce Northstar's name right, before they began to talk about their abilities, and the struggles with having such abilities.

"I just wanna climb on stuff, like the cool sculptures in the city that my dad showed me, but he said that that wasn't allowed. I think he just doesn't want people to see my abilities," Peter looked at his feet as he sat cross-legged, staring out over the woods below.

"Non, he was telling the truth, people aren't allowed to climb on those sculptures," Northstar shook his head, "and even if your father did care about whether or not people saw your abilities, he likely has a very good reason for not wanting people to see," he paused, "Your father is a part of a very famous group of heroes, the Avengers, yes?"

Peter nodded, smiling proudly.

"Well," Northstar continued, "a group of people like the Avengers usually make lots of enemies. Enemies who might wish to hurt you, because they want to hurt your father, and you are much easier to get to," Northstar lightly pushed at the center of Peter's chest with his pointer finger, "Mutants have long been threatened by the government or powerful groups of people- bad people- who don't care that we are humans as well. They wish to harm us, to see why we are special, why we can do the things we can," Northstar lifted his arm as it began to glow, examining the light, "and why they can't," the light faded away.

Peter nose crinkled as he frowned, "But I'm not a mutant. I'm just… erh, I don't know what," Peter looked down, his brow furrowing more as he tried to think about what he was exactly.

Northstar smiled at the boy, "You are… very similar to a mutant. So much so that, well," the man chuckled, "you might as well be a mutant."

"…Really?"

"Peter, what you are is so unique and special, so unlike anything else in this world, but if the world ever wishes to label you, they'll likely put you down as a mutant. That's the closest equivalent to how special you are," Northstar nodded his approval, a proud smile on his face.

Peter smiled, feeling a warmth fill him in a place in his chest, somewhere near his heart, a place he never knew had been empty. Peter was a part of something. He was a mutant, if what Northstar was saying was true, and that made him feel… happy. He had people who would accept him. He had his family too, but this… was different somehow. He couldn't explain it, but it was like finding home again, for the second time.

The two continued to talk until Northstar said it was time to head back.

As soon as Peter and Northstar appeared inside the mansion once more, the boy's heightened sense of hearing picked up the sound of the quinjet flying towards the mansion, maybe two minutes away.

Peter thanked Northstar, giving the man a quick, and rather surprising, hug before running off to go find his backpack. He'd left it in Mr. Summer's classroom when the math teacher told him he wouldn't need it for flight class.

"Peter!"

Peter turned around, and noticed Northstar still standing by the broom closet, but now holding a small slip of paper.

"Don't forget your homework," Northstar winked.

Peter pouted. Homework? But they didn't do anything, they just talked. What could he have homework on?

As Peter trudged closer, he saw a few short questions about himself- his favorite color, his favorite game(s) to play, etc etc.- as well as a few words he didn't understand.

"Your assignment," Northstar grinned, "Answer the personal questions, just to help me get to know you a little better, then research what these words mean. They're things we talked about today, and a few things you should learn for class- gravity, photokinesis- one of my abilities, remember?- g-forces and aerodynamics. Make sure to have your father help you as he'll definitely be able to explain a few of these to you," Peter nodded, looking down at the small paper with all the strange words.

Turning it over, he noticed a large blank box on the back, "What's this for?"

Northstar looked down before smiling brightly, "Oh, yes, that's for a costume!"

Peter's nose crinkled, "What for?"

The older man chuckled, "So we can make you something to wear when we begin the more physical side of flight class. Especially in your case, where you're not just flying in a straight line, but swinging through the air. Part of this class is to work on strengthening your body so that you'll be able to stay more in control, as well as gymnastics, something that plays a surprisingly large part in flight. Gymnastics is a little hard to do in every day clothes, though, so we have to get you something that you can move more easily in. I thought you might like to make it… unique. All superheroes have a unique costume, yes? So must you," Northstar smiled at Peter.

Peter nodded, smiling back as he thought of what he wanted to make his 'superhero' costume. Something cool with a lot of spikes.

Peter walked away, waving goodbye to his teacher as he ran to the math classroom, grabbing his bag out from behind Mr. Summer's teaching stool. The man had said that he didn't care for having a big, bulky desk around when he spent most of the class teaching up at the board or walking amongst the students to help answer questions.

Peter raced out, nearly barreling into a tall woman with pretty, electric white hair and warm, stormy eyes. He apologized, but kept running down the hall, out the doors and across the courtyard.

Tony was already making his way down the path towards the school, apparently too impatient to wait for Peter.

Peter practically ran Tony over, leaping at him to give him a big hug.

"Woa-hoa, Petey, what's the rush?" Tony chuckled.

"Today was awesome!" Peter was so excited as he held Tony's hand, walking back to the quinjet, "I had geography, which was kinda boring, but my teacher was covered in blue fur! And then I had history with Logan- he's Wade's dad!- and he was actually at some of the things we learned about, like he was in a bunch of wars because he's super old! Wade said he had a pet dinosaur when he was a kid."

Peter continued on in this fashion, talking for a good hour on the flight back home as he described his day, what classes were boring, what weren't, how scary Logan looked when he brought out the dodgeballs.

Tony listened quietly, asking questions and making comments every so often. When Peter mentioned the homework he'd gotten from his flight instructor, Tony grew a little curious, and they spent the last two hours of the flight talking about what gravity was and what it meant to be aerodynamic. Tony got a kick out of Peter designing his own costume, and explained to the boy why it might not be such a good idea to put spikes on his costume if he wanted to be 'aerodynamic'.

When the two finally made it home and stepped out of the elevator, they smelled a mouth-watering aroma coming from the kitchen.

Natasha stood at the stove, stirring some sort of stir fry before putting the lid back on it.

"If you make one comment about women in the kitchen, Tony, I swear," Natasha called without looking up at them.

Tony raised a hand to his forehead in mock sorrow, "Uh! You wound me, Dearest Natasha," he pouted, laying said hand over his heart, "To think that I would disparage anyone in such a way-" a spatula whacked the overdramatic man squarely in the forehead.

Peter giggled, before going over to hug Natasha, surprising her as she looked down, still stirring the food, though now with a wooden spoon, "Natasha, what's 'disparage' mean?"

Natasha laughed quietly, tugging Peter closer before picking him up and setting him on the counter easily. She handed him an ear of corn, and showed him how to peel it, giving him a bowl to put the leaves.

"Disparage is a fancy word for 'make fun of'. He was saying he's never make fun of me for cooking in the kitchen, but he's just being an idiot."

"Why would you cooking be something to make fun of?"

At that moment, Bruce walked in, and answered for Natasha, "It's more of a grown-up joke, kiddo, it'll be easier to understand when you're older," He smiled as he came up to Peter picking the boy up off the counter and swinging him around, making the boy giggle while narrowly avoiding hitting Natasha in the face with the child's shoes.

"Hey," she exclaimed, "Watch it. None of that in the kitchen, you could knock over the skillet," she was smiling ever so slightly, though, letting Bruce know she wasn't actually upset. He smiled back at her.

"Daddy?"

Bruce looked back at Peter as the boy sat on his hip, briefly wondering how much longer the little boy would call him that before 'getting too old for it' and using 'Dad' instead. He was only 6, but Bruce didn't think he'd have much longer before his little boy began to grow up. He'd already grown so much in the… how long had it been now since he'd found his son in the middle of some Latverian slums? Months? It's been… a year. What? A whole year?

Bruce realized that he'd spaced out, and looked back at his son who seemed to be waiting for the man to focus.

"Daddy, what's a grown-up joke? Why wouldn't I understand the joke?" Peter asked, his nose scrunching up slightly.

"Grown-up jokes are for old people, like me or Uncle Tony," Bruce answered.

"Or Natasha?"

Bruce quickly shook his head, then thought about it, "Actually, I guess that's true. Natasha' pretty old, actually. She's nearly 80."

Peter looked over at the woman, surprised, not noticing the unamused look she was directing at Bruce. Peter knew he wasn't very good at telling how old grown-ups were, not that he tried to guess very often, but he was pretty sure 80 meant really old. Natasha couldn't be 80 years old.

"But, Natasha, you don't look old," Peter asked in confusion.

She smiled back at him, "Thank you," she sighed, "But I am, actually. I'm 78."

Peter's eyebrows lifted, and he made a quiet, "Oh", before looking out into the living room where he could sense Steve sitting down on the couch, "You're really close to Uncle Steve's age! He's really old, too!" the boy said excitedly, turning back a smile.

Tony, who had just come back in to the room after disappearing into his lab for a while, grinned mischievously at Peter, "Yeah, Steve is definitely really old. You shouldn't be calling him 'Uncle Steve', Peter, you should call him 'Grandpa Steve'."

Peter could hear an annoyed grunt from the living room, and giggled.

Bruce smiled, "Yeah, Steve is pretty old. So old, in fact, that he probably knows a few jokes even we grown-ups wouldn't understand," another grunt, "Wasn't there something back in the helicarrier, Tony? Something about…" Bruce trailed off, as Tony laughed.

"Flying monkeys!" Tony guffawed.

Peter giggled as well, not really understanding this adult joke either, but the grunts of annoyance coming from the living room making it clear Steve didn't appreciate the teasing.

Tony's laughter caused him to bump into the bowl of fruit on the counter he was leaning against, causing a few oranges and a mango to fall to the floor.

The man swore lightly, not giving Bruce the chance to cover Peter's ears.

"Language," Natasha said from the stove, smiling devilishly.

Tony and Bruce both laughed harder, especially when Steve's voice called from the living room, "ROMANOFF!"

Dinner was soon ready and the rest of the evening was filled with laughter, good-natured teasing to all, and a content feeling that reminded Peter of the conversation he'd had with Northstar earlier that day.

Peter was surrounded by a big, happy family, both at home and at school. He had a place in the world, somewhere where he actually belonged. He was loved and wanted and content.

* * *

**For now... MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHahahahaAHhaahHAhahaaaa!**

**WHAT THE HELL, MARVEL?! YOU BEEN DRINKING TOO MANY MOFFAT LATTES?**

**Why are hero backstories always so freakin' tragic?! Northstar adopting a baby girl with AIDS who was thrown in a dumpster only for her to die, or trying to carry a ten year old mutant boy to the hospital only for the child's powers to go on the fritz, causing them to fall which ultimately killed the boy and severely injured Northstar.**

**On a different note, I included a bit of French for Northstar- according to canon, his native tongue is french. I think he's just a really cool character. Umh, I also wrote him _really_ OC so, yeah. If anyone is a big Northstar fan or just doesn't like that he's so laidback, I really apologize, I do. I researched him, but I couldn't find much on his actual personality, just his background, so I have no idea what he's actually like. I just read what wiki's Emma Frost quote said, that he was a hero, role model and a teacher.**

**Also, for the purpose of the story, Natasha was born in 1938, not 1928.**


	24. Chapter 19

**Just realized that Xavier sent Peter off to art class in the Chandelier chapter, but he doesn't have art class. Oops. Gotta go fix that!**

**Sorry I didn't warn you guys, but...**

**Trouble has come knocking, and it's not leaving for a loooooong while. Uh-oh.**

* * *

A month into the school year, Peter began to get a dull ache in the back of his head. It wasn't like a headache, but it was just quiet enough that he didn't believe it to be his spider sense.

It got worse as the days passed, until finally, while sitting with Northstar in the woods, he huffed in frustration.

Northstar looked up from the wooden airplane he'd been putting together. The assignment of the day was to build different prototypes of flight machines to help demonstrate aerodynamics, and also just so they could throw airplanes off the side of the cliff to see who could make theirs fly the farthest.

Over the past month, the two had grown incredibly close, very much like brothers, in Peter's mind. They talked about everything, and Northstar was always patient in answering Peter's many questions, no matter how strange, or sometimes complicated. If the older man didn't know the answer to some of the more technical stuff, he and Peter would sometimes head off to the school's computer labs until their curiosity was quenched. The 'Flight' class progressed, although it had so little structure, it could hardly be called a 'class'. Northstar would often direct many of the things they learned or did towards a lesson in flight, or even combat whilst in the air. They started to practice 'flying', or swinging in Peter's case, a week into the school year, and Northstar taught Peter a lot about acrobatics and gymnastics, which helped him immensely in his form. Hanging from a thin string that's attached to your wrist is not as easy as it looks, being that it put Peter off balance, and the concentration of trying to perfect his form or just not slip often meant he forgot to let go. This usually ended comically, as Peter was wound around tree boughs or thrown straight up into the air when he let go of the thread at the wrong time.

The lessons continued, though often postponed when Peter and Northstar would begin talking about. Today, at least, they were doing something semi-related to the class.

"You alright, Peter?" Northstar asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

Peter pouted, "No, my head hurts."

"Would you like something for it?" the older man pulled out a child's ibuprofen bottle.

Peter shook his head, "That won't help."

An answering chuckle, "Well, it wouldn't hurt to try it."

Peter huffed childishly, "It won't work. It's not a headache," Northstar raised an eyebrow, "No, it's not a headache, it's…" Peter trailed off, trying to describe it. He was getting frustrated, and felt like throwing a bit of a tantrum because of it.

Northstar nodded in understanding, "Would you like to go to the infirmary and have the nurse check it out? He's really smart, and'll know just what to do," he promised reassuringly.

Peter's nose scrunched up in confusion, his frustration momentarily staved, "He?"

Northstar chuckled, "Hey, now, guys can be nurses too! Although, Dr. McCoy wouldn't like you calling him that since, technically, he's a doctor, just a different kind-"

"-N-no, that's ok," the last thing Peter wanted to do was see Dr. McCoy right now. That morning, he'd forgotten his homework on his desk at home, and McCoy had given him a stern look. He didn't really want to get into any more trouble with the Good Doctor.

Northstar frowned, before nodding, "Alright, well tell me if it gets any worse, alright?"

Peter nodded, sighing as the strange feeling in his head intensified the tiniest bit, and the two went back to building their little wooden planes.

Not long after, the dull ache in Peter's head morphed subtly into a tingling at the back of his neck- the warning sense of danger. Peter barely had time to realize what had happened and act before a tiny needle was stuck in his neck.

He felt the sting of the needle, and a sudden numbing coming from that spot. The needle alone was enough to scare him, and he looked up at Northstar, his face turning white with fear as the world began to whirl and tumble, "Northst-a-ar…"

The older man looked over in time to see the boy's eyes glaze over as he fell forward. He had just enough time to press the emergency alert signal installed in his belt in the school's 'X' symbol before a few of his own tranq darts were lodged into his back and neck.

He grunted, fighting off the encroaching, dark numbness, and stood, swaying dangerously- especially since the two were sitting near the cliff's edge- and picked up Peter, attempting to carry the boy to safety with whatever little strength he had left.

It wasn't enough, and after taking a few steps, they collapsed, tumbling to the ground in heap.

Northstar had just enough time to see the bleary outline of a pale face appear above him to stare down at him before his eyes closed.

Lights out.

…

…m.

..mhmmhm..mhmh…

…nmorth… Northstar….

...nhm...

"...nm...orthstar, wake up."

Slowly, Northstar woke, the drugs still circling through his system pulling at him like dark tendrils.

"…Peter."

Northstar's eyes shot open, and he gasped.

He was in the infirmary with Professor Xavier, Logan, and Jean Grey, another one of the teachers, looking over him as Dr. McCoy walked over, carrying a glass of water, assumedly.

He was proffered the cup by the Doctor's blue hands, and managed to take a good, long sip, before coughs wracked his body.

He cleared his throat, "Peter, did you fin- *cough*- Did you find 'im?"

The Professor's face turned solemn, "No, we found you alone in the woods. Peter must have been taken by whoever attacked you two. I'll begin searching for him with Cerebro."

The Professor turned and wheeled away, trailed by Jean.

"What happened out there?" Logan asked, still standing nearby with his arms perpetually crossed, "We got your distress call, but it looked like you barely put up a fight."

Northstar glared at his friend. They'd been through a lot together, and he owed the man his life, but that didn't mean he liked the man. At least, not most of the time.

"Don't give me that look," Wolverine chuckled, "I know as well as anyone that you're one of our best members, and a favorite faculty member amongst the kiddos," he turned serious, "but it looked like you didn't fight at all. Who could've surprised you like that?"

Northstar sighed, "I think… I don't know. I barely saw the guys face before I blacked out. Peter and I, we were just sitting there, and Peter had been complaining-" Northstar paled, "Oh, shit. I… Peter was complaining about a headache, but he said it wasn't really a headache, just... he must've been sensing…" Northstar looked down, slumping over, "I wasn't paying attention. I knew of Peter's ability to sense incoming danger, but it didn't even-"

"Hey, Bub, get your shit together. It's not your fault- mostly," Northstar glared at Wolverine, but the man didn't seem to notice, "after the headache, what happened?"

Northstar went on to explain about the tranq darts and his attempt to get Peter to safety. It obviously hadn't been enough. However, Wolverine pointed out something interesting.

"Tranq darts? We didn't find any at the scene. Must've been some pretty heavy duty stuff to take you two out. Obviously, Peter's body is smaller, not even mentioning about his quick metabolism, so they wouldn't need very many to take him down, but you? You're A-class, no normal tranquilizer would take you down. Whoever did this knew what they were doing, and had the means to both get onto the ground undetected as well as attack a full-fledged X-men and superpowered child," Logan growled dangerously, thinking about his own son, who was somewhere above them on the main floors, likely getting into some sort of mischief, but safe at least, "We need to talk to Xavier, and hunt this bastard down."

Northstar paled even more as a new thought came to him, "As much as finding the boy and his captor, or captors, is of the utmost importance, I think we should also think about how to inform his family, more specifically…"

"His dad," Logan finished, grimacing.

* * *

**So, that was kinda tame for a kidnapping, I know. Not very action packed, but don't worry! We'll get to the action VERY soon }=0)**

**Ok, what'd you think?**

**HOMEWORK FOR YOU: **

**. .**

**_ If you could take one class at Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters, what would it be?_  
**

**. .**

**A few examples from my research:**

**~Computer Sciences with Kitty Pryde**

**~French with Karma**

**~Music, Art, Drama, Life Sciences, or German with Kurt Wagner**

**~Art with Colossus**

**~Science, Math, or Philosophy with Beast**

**~English, Business, Ethics, or Team-training with Emma Frost**

**~Close Quarters Combat or History with Logan**

**~Leadership or Tactics with Cyclops**

**~Consumer Law or Flight with Northstar**

**~Finance, Accounting, or Math with Bobby Drake**

**~Target Practice with Gambit**

**~German with Mystique**

**~A class of your choice (no specific instructor needed!****)**


	25. Chapter 20

**RATING CHANGE TO M- I need you guys to let me know, does this chapter push the envelope to an M-rating for this story? What do you think.**

**Also, I'm sorry... I listened to sad piano music again. This happened.**

* * *

**SLIGHT TORTURE CHAPTER. PROCEED WITH CAUTION**

* * *

Violins…

That was the first thing Peter heard.

The music was a crashing of sound followed by some nicer sounds, but his brain couldn't muddle out the whys, whats or wheres.

His eyes were so heavy, they didn't want to open.

The song, something that sounded like it belonged in one of Steve's favorite Shakespeare stage-to-film movies, seemed to be coming to an end, and the violins gave one happy lift before quieting.

Peter finally felt his eyes open- into blinding light.

He flinched, his eyes screaming bloody murder at him, his whole body wriggling in discomfort.

"Ah, he's awake!" a voice called from Peter's left, towards his feet.

He was beginning to get his bearings; lying on a table- scratch that- strapped down on a table, bright light above him, unnaturally lethargic limbs, mush brain, strange person over there, and- oh, that's why he heard violins. Somebody had that boring 'classical' music playing.

The music came from all around him, must be 'surround sound'-

Peter's brain suddenly caught up with the actual depth of the situation, and his instincts kicked in. He began to pull at the restraints, using all his strength to tug them off, to be free. He squirmed, jerking as much as he could. He had to get out of here. Now.

The voice from before called out just as Peter began to feel the material around his wrists begin to give way.

Too late, though, as 4 pairs of hands attached themselves to him- he had yet to open his eyes against the bright onslaught above him, but he had counted them- holding him down as he squirmed. He may have been immensely strong for his age, even strong enough to probably take out the four people holding him down, but the restraints slowed him, and a needle was soon stuck in his neck, his very bones becoming much too heavy for him to be able to lift at a scarily fast rate.

"Well, that was a close one, wasn't it? Now now, Little One, wouldn't want you to get yourself hurt," the voice teased him, "Wow! Look at what you did to these restraints?! We'll have to get something a little sturdier now. Oh, my superiors are going to be so pleased with you! You're the _perfect_ specimen! Literally, you are what everybody has been trying to create for the past- are you even listening?"

Peter's limbs had numbed to the point where he couldn't move them. Whatever they had put in that needle made it so he couldn't lift his limbs, and that scared him. He'd been attempting to move his arms again, only vaguely aware that the voice was talking. It wasn't until the table underneath him shifted, tilting forward mechanically.

The light moved out from his eyes, and he finally could see where he was. He was… on the helicarrier.

The millisecond of relief that coursed through him froze, turning his body cold as he noticed immediately the contents of the large lab he was in. The walls were covered in that same grey, metal plating that was everywhere in the helicarrier, and in some places there were holographic computer screens, just like the ones back in Daddy and Tony's lab, and he could even make out the familiar hum of the giant helicarrier's engines. What made Peter's blood chill, though, was the huge tubes of blue liquid on the far side of the room. Bubbles flew up from the bottom inside the liquid, and Peter could make out dark wiring on the inside near the top. Only one of the 5 tubes he counted was occupied, a huge blue-tinged being he'd never seen before, held floating in the liquid by black tubing and wiring coming down from above its head. Even scarier, the creature… only had a torso, head and arms. No legs, no lower body. Part of its face was even missing, an eye, and the skin of its left cheek was gone, revealing the inside of its mouth.

Peter thought he might throw up. Was the thing even alive?

"Do you like my pet?"

Peter jerked away as much as he could with his body still unresponsive to him. The voice from earlier now had a face, and it was staring right at him.

He couldn't tell if they were a woman or a man or what. They were human, or seemed to be, but their face was covered by a strange mask.

Peter tried to remember how he'd gotten here, and was suddenly flooded with a rush of memories. Northstar.

"W-where-" Peter's tongue felt like a wet cotton ball in his mouth, but he still tried, "Where's-"

"You're friend, Little One?" the person asked, "We killed him."

Peter's eyes widened, horror written all over his face as tears finally began to streak across his cheeks.

Northstar? Dead? Peter knew that this bad person, and whoever they worked for, must want him for something. Northstar was dead? They killed him?! If Northstar hadn't been near Peter when these bad people came to kidnap him, he might… might still be…

"Auuuuh, don't cry, Little One!" the voice cooed, breathing cold air uncomfortably against Peter's already irritated eyeball.

Peter shrunk away.

The person shrugged as they stepped away, sighing dramatically, "I can't have you crying just yet. That just means it'll be so much harder to savor it later when-"

A beeping came from the computer screen to Peter's right, and the person crossed over to answer. A scary lady appeared on a screen Peter could just make out in the corner of his eye after turning his still-somewhat-functioning neck to see what was going on.

This was bad, Peter thought to himself, very, very bad. The woman had… she had a HYDRA symbol on her clothes. Steve told him about HYDRA. They were the worst people on the planet, dangerous and pure evil. And they'd killed Northstar. To get to him. Northstar was dead, and it was his fault. He had gotten his favorite teacher killed. His friend.

Peter's tears began rolling down his cheeks uncontrollably, keeping his sobs silent as the woman's commanding voice could clearly be heard in the background.

"Dr. Smythe, I presume our subject is ready for the operation?"

The now-dubbed Dr. Smythe nodded their head, grinning slightly.

"Proceed."

A moment later, the screen went blank, and the doctor stepped up in front of Peter, still grinning.

"Now, Little One, it's time," he grinned, a whirring sound starting up from behind the still upturned table top Peter lay limply against, "We are going to make you forget _everything_. Anything you love, or anyone you hold dear, anything that makes you…" the doctor grinned, "You, just _poof_!" spittle flew from Dr. Smythe's mouth as he screamed out his laughter, a huge, shadowy machine with a hundred long tube 'arms' writhing around it rolling up beside him, "Now, now, we can't have a crying little boy in this amazing body of yours- no!" the doctor's voice dropped with that one word, his insanity clear, "HYDRA needs soldiers, strong and pure power, unstoppable. You, Little One, are everything we could hope for," the Doctor's voice changed, and their eyes shown down on Peter with awe, just as their arm raised above their head, seemingly without their notice, as though the arm itself was doing it autonomously.

In the doctor's hand, raised above their head, was a very sharp and very long needle.

Peter had never in his life felt the terror of that moment.

"Everything we could hope for," the doctor said hollowly, staring at Peter with unseeing eyes.

The needle jammed down.

Peter screamed.

(#)

One week, three days, twelve hours, and fourteen minutes after he had been informed, the Hulk hadn't turned back into Bruce Banner.

For obvious reasons, SHIELD held him in a special facility while the Banner was uncontrollable, one that, while not _actually_ capable of holding him, held him long enough to drug him into submission- with the team's permission. They wouldn't have let Fury use knock out gas to keep the Hulk immobile unless it was necessary, and in this case, it was. 5 city blocks of Manhattan completely obliterated, 3 dead bodies, and a multitude of injuries were proof enough of that.

In the meantime the Avengers worked tirelessly, day and night, enlisting the help of the X-Men, Fantastic Four, Guardians, and anyone else willing to help. Thor appeared on the 5th day, back from Asgard with a vanguard of his most trusted warriors behind him, all quiet as the seriousness of the situation was evident to anyone who looked at the residents of Avengers Tower.

Natasha's hair was frizzed and unwashed, her eyes bloodshot from the many late nights of staying up, surfing through data streams and contacting old connections to call in favors. Tony, known for his sleepless nights, found himself on the receiving end of a Vulcan nerve pinch- something he quickly regretted showing Steve- a number of times as the American hero went down to his lab to find him 'working' with JARVIS, his eyes unseeing of the data before him, but unwilling to rest all the same. The man took it the hardest, being that he had only been 20 minutes out from the school when Peter was taken. 20 minutes earlier, and he would have been there to save Peter. He could've stopped them, he could have _done_ somet-

"Tony," Steve shook the man, "you couldn't have done anything. Don't go there. There was nothing that could have been done."

Tony vaguely realized he'd been talking out loud. He stared at Steve, trying to comprehend what his eyes were seeing.

Steve sighed, reaching up for the spot between the man's neck and shoulder where, if he pressed hard enough, a simple pinch would render Tony unconscious.

However, the genius had seemingly had enough of this annoyingly efficient tactic for getting him to rest, "Yeah yeah, I'll go to bed. Quit with the nerve pinch. You shouldn't even know that. You're not Vulcan. How could you possibly know that?"

Tony's ramblings grew quiet as Steve slowly dragged him up the stairs and down the hall towards the genius' bedroom to put the poor man to sleep.

Steve sighed when the man had finally closed his eyes, and headed to the kitchen for a drink of whatever he could find. He didn't care if he couldn't get drunk, he could damn well try.

The team, his team, was falling apart at the seams. Even with the help of the X-Men, the Guardians, even SHIELD, Peter still had yet to be found. It was like he had disappeared off the face of the planet- not, Steve realized, that that was completely impossible.

However, Thor had his men scouting all of the nine realms in search of the tiniest clues to the boy's whereabouts.

Still, nothing.

Where could they be hiding Peter? Steve couldn't think clearly, as he headed towards his room. Wait, his room? Hadn't he been going towards the kitchen for a drink? Steve shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Tony might not be the only one in need of a good rest. Steve sighed and started walking again.

Wherever Peter was being held, Steve prayed that the boy was alright. He couldn't hope for the child's safety, as that was naive at this point, but if the boy was, at the very least, alive…?

Steve could only pray and hope.

* * *

**Good news- Steve can do a Vulcan Nerve Pinch because he's uber duber strong**

**Bad news- this chapter was... woah. Peter... there was no hesitation, no reluctance on the part of the crazed doctor to torture Peter. It kinda made me feel sick writing this chapter, and it's not like all that much happened. I guess it's just the knowledge of what's to come that's got me feeling queasy.**

**HOMEWORK: (again, sorry!)**

**1) Name one item that is a COLLEGE ESSENTIAL to survive freshman year (on-campus). If you're not in college, that's ok! I'd love to hear your suggestions as well!**

**2) IF YOU ARE A WRITER, please tell me the _full_ and _accurate_ titles of one of your stories, and I'll read the first 5 sent to me!**


	26. Chapter 21

**Ok, everybody give a BIG thanks to tbk9.2011 for their for kind and concerned note. My dear, you're the reason this chapter is finished. I was about two-thirds done, and I'd just been totally swamped that I'd put it off far longer than I intended, and then I saw your review, and I honestly sat down immediately to finish out the chapter.**

**SO, THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO TBK9.2011**

**Sorry for the wait!**

* * *

Pain. Zap! More pain. Zap!

He was no longer a person, he could no longer remember his name. He didn't remember what he looked like, who he loved or if he even loved anyone in the first place. He couldn't remember where he was, and his blurred vision and ringing ears made it impossible for him to tell.

All he knew at this point was the pain. He felt he'd lived his whole life swimming in this pain. Nothing before, and definitely nothing to come after.

A voice in the background, someone was talking about… he couldn't even muddle out the meaning of the words. His brain probably looked more like apple sauce at this point.

And then the pain stopped. In one blissful moment, the world was numb and cold and peaceful.

And the world went black.

* * *

Eyes flashed open; Bruce gasped.

Breathing heavily, he sat up on his cot, his whole body aching and screaming at him to quit moving.

The room he was in was reinforced with thick steel, though bent to extremes in many places. That led Bruce to assume that the Other Guy had been present before he came to consciousness.

How did they contain him though…? Bruce's gaze fell on the ventilation shaft above his head, noticing the almost invisible mist raining down from the chute. Ah, sedative. Constant sedative.

Bruce sighed, that was for the best. He still had a green flush to his cheeks and hands, and deep in his gut, he felt a boiling anger telling him how rowdy the Other Guy was going to be for a while, especially with the recent development of his son being kidnapped. He'd been so enraged, so scared and disgusted with his lack of ability to do anything, that he'd let the Other Guy take over completely, blacking him out into the blissful silence of his mind.

But for how long? A day? A week? Had they found Peter yet?

Bruce got up, slowly, as his muscles groaned in absolute protest at the movement. He felt more like he'd been comatose since his black out, rather than having let a monster control his body while he dealt with his emotional upheaval. That would've explained why his muscles feel like they hadn't been used in years.

That thought shot a chill through Bruce's limbs. In reality, he knew that he couldn't have been unconscious for a year, but the thought brought images of what could have happened to his son while he was wallowing. His brain began to conjure horrific scenarios, fit for horror films.

Bruce shook his head, dropping into his hands; he needed to stop this. If such things _had_ happened- the thought had him shuddering- than it was on him. It was his fault for letting his emotions get the best of him when his son needed him. His fault.

Bruce looked up at the sound of a metal clinking against metal. A door opened seamlessly from the far wall, and Natasha stepped in.

"Bruce?" she asked, watching him carefully. He still looked green, the color fluctuating in his cheeks.

Bruce smiled as best he could, "Hey, Nat."

"How are you feeling?" the wary look quickly disappeared, replaced with a small, relieved smile.

Bruce sighed, "Ready to get out of here."

Natasha nodded, "The doctors wanted to keep you a bit longer, to check on the residual effects of being in your mutated form for a prolonged period of time-"

"-I'm sure they do, but we don't have time for that," Bruce screwed his eyes shot, a headache beginning as the Other Guy began to fight, wanting to get out and look for Peter.

Natasha watched Bruce closely. She'd never seen him go so long in his greener form. The Hulk had been their only company in place of the quiet doctor for most of a week before having to be sedated. In that week, he had nearly toppled a few buildings downtown- which, unexpectedly exposed a HYDRA front in one of the nearly toppled buildings. The rest of the damage to the city, SHIELD was still trying to deal and rebuild. After being sedated, the Hulk had still remained, and Bruce had only faded back into existence a few hours ago. They'd been waiting for the sedatives to wear off before waking him.

Bruce huffed, sensing Natasha's gaze, "He'll behave, alright? As long as I'm allowed to help look for Peter. He's just upset that I haven't already begun looking is all."

Natasha sighed, "I'm not afraid him, you know. And as much as you won't believe it, the Hulk did help… a little. He spent 5 days rampaging through downtown, and somehow ended up uncovering a HYDRA front corporation working out of one of the more damaged buildings, something called Wai-Go. Whether he actually meant to do that, or whether it was complete accident, the Big Guy helped take down a rather annoying pest… and having him around hasn't been _too_ terrible," Natasha walked over sitting comfortably beside Bruce with a gentle, teasing smile.

Bruce shook his head, his fist clenching, "How many buildings did he destroy in the meantime? How many people were injured, or worse, expelled?" Bruce frowned at his slip of tongue- expelled?- before huffing, "Face it, Nat, if I hadn't lost control, Peter might already be safe and secure in his bed back at the tower, and all the damage the Hulk has done wouldn't have happened. I'm just a mess, and I can't do anything to fix it. I can't get rid of the monster without getting rid of me, and believe me, I've tried to do both."

Natasha shook her head at the ominous tone in the man's voice, "Bruce look at me," when the man didn't move, she put her hand under his chin, but he pulled away, standing quickly.

"Nat, I can't wait here any longer. If I wallow, that's just more time wasted in which we could be searching for Peter. We'll talk after… after we find him, alright?"

Natasha sighed, "Alright, then. They need us upstairs anyway," she walked over to the door, which had closed quietly after her entrance, and it smoothly slid back open.

Bruce quickly followed after her when she beckoned him to. The two set off at a relatively fast pace, walking to the elevator, and then to Bruce's rooms.

When Bruce had protested the detour, Natasha had pointed out that he was practically flashing every agent they passed, and the man grumbled his consent, disappearing for a minute before reappearing in comfy worn bullboxers, slightly rumpled khakis and a button-up that needed an ironing.

They set off once more for bridge and situation room where Natasha said everyone was currently gathered, and were met with a rather haggard sight. Most of the team was there- Tony, Steve, Clint, and Thor- and an argument had erupted between Steve and Tony over something, deteriorating into a petty match of name-calling and yelling.

Bruce clutched at the door frame as his headache worsened- the metal frame gave out a terrible shrrirrk! sound, which silenced the rest of the room's occupants as everyone was made aware of their presence.

Bruce felt everyone's eyes on him, but stubbornly kept his turned to the ground, focusing on his breathing.

Tony was seemingly the first to recover, "Thank goodness somebody with a brain has finally shown up! Bruce, tell them I could totally take down Doctor Doom on my own! I'm more than capable, and I have a suit that-"

Bruce shook his head, smiling lightly, as Steve whapped Tony upside the head lightly. He needed this, some lighthearted antics to lift his mood a bit, "Really, Tony? This is what you guys are fighting about?"

The other man looked bewildered, "Wuh- yeah! Steve was suggesting some stupid plan, and I said it was stupid, and then he said I couldn't think straight right now-"

"-You can't," Steve interjected.

"-So I said-"

"-Tony," Bruce took a breath, and his friend soon quieted.

They fell into silence for just a second, before Steve quietly spoke, that sass that he was slowly getting the hang of prominent in his tone, "How about we tell Bruce- 'the only other person here with a brain'- about the plan, and see what he has to say."

Tony grumbled, but a quick pinch from Natasha shut him up finally.

Steve sighed, "Well, while you were-" Steve frowned slightly, giving Bruce an apologetic look, "While you were out of commission, we began tracing what we could find at the scene of the kidnapping, and it looks as though… HYDRA has him."

They waited for Bruce to explode once more, but the man merely gestured for the Captain to continue. Natasha had already said something about that.

Steve nodded, "We've enlisted the help of Professor Xavier and his team, as well as our friends, the Guardians, the Fantastic Four, and a few others. SHIELD is currently dealing with a crisis in Sokovia that they're having to deal with, along with, erh, cleanup, but they're using all their additional resources to help in the search."

Bruce nodded, "So, what's this plan then?"

Tony began to grumble once again, but let out a yelp, and gave Natasha a dirty look before shutting up.

"Well, we have leads that point to a number of HYDRA bases all across the world. Five different locations, and every SHIELD agents sent to scout them turns up with either nothing, or go MIA. If we divide and send a member of the team to each location- Clint and Natasha will go together to Bavaria to infiltrate Fussen, the HYDRA fort, and Tony we're sending to Mount Charteris in Colorado. That mountain has been used by a number of groups over the years, and locals have recently reported some new activity. Could be that HYDRA has moved Peter there for testing. I'll be heading to New Zealand to Gehenna; SHIELD thought the base was abandoned some decades ago, but new reports are showing recent activity. Thor we're sending to something called HYDRA Island. It's in the Pacific Ocean, and seems to stay almost completely radio silent for the better part of the year. Agents sent an agent in their a few days ago, and they were able to completely cut off any communication devices for a while. Because Thor's methods are a little… less than subtle, we're just going to have him destroy the base rather than scout it."

"Yes, indeed, Captain of Sickles! I shall throw myself into battle with a mighty swing of Mjölnir and strike fear into mine enemies!" Thor's booming voice was a rather abrupt contrast to the soundless meeting room and Steve's firm tone.

Bruce shook his head, "And what about me? I know I've been out of the game for a week or two, but I was really hoping you'd have something for me to do. The… well, the Other Guy, he's gettin' kind of antsy," Bruce rubbed at the back of his neck, ashamed of himself. Every issue he was having to deal with right now- not having his son, not having an assignment, the destruction of a good portion of downtown from the sounds of it- all of that was his fault.

"Because we weren't really sure when you'd wake up, we left the least plausible lead for you, a small lab in Peru where a group of HYDRA scientists have been hiding out. It's secluded and way far into the forests, but there isn't a lot of security so we don't think they're hiding much," Steve grimaced, "Sorry, Banner, but we weren't sure when you'd wake up, much less be ready for a mission. We're still a little worried about how personal this is for you. Obviously, it's personal for the whole team- we're a family just as much as we're allies- but this…" Steve trailed off, glancing at the green pallor that still hadn't left Bruce's hands since he'd crushed the door frame, before catching Bruce's eye with a sympathetic grimace.

Bruce sighed, nodding. He understood Steve's hesitation; being emotionally compromised on the battlefield could do just as much harm as help. You could endanger your team, and Steve always drew the line when it came to that.

"I understand your qualms about letting me out into the field, Steve, but at this point," he paused, sitting back in his chair, feeling the heavy weight of trying to hold in the Hulk settle on his shoulders, "if I don't do something, the Other Guy will."

Bruce gave his friend a meaningful look, trying to lighten the nearly threatening statement enough for Steve to understand that this was out of his control at this point.

Steve nodded, letting Bruce know he understood. At the end of the day, they all understood each other, more than anyone else in the world ever would, or could, and that's why they were a team, and a family.

"Alright," Steve's tone was firm, "You have your assignments. Keep in mind-"

"Hold on," Bruce stopped him, "Why was Tony so against this plan in the first place though? It seems solid enough."

Tony blew out a breath before Steve could answer, "Because, if any of us end up finding Peter, we can't get him out until backup's arrived. We have to wait, even if they're torturing him-"

"-Tony!" Natasha and Steve both stopped the genius as Bruce started to turn a pale green, both from his stomach dropping at the thought and the Other Guy's stirring rage.

Natasha was by Bruce's side in a moment, "Bruce, are you alright?"

Bruce took a second to breathe before nodding, his head down between his legs. He didn't feel like removing it any time soon.

A whap! noise sounded across the room, and Tony groaned out, "Why'd you _do_ that?!"

Bruce could hear Natasha scoff at the man's obtuseness.

"Bruce," Steve continued, "Let me be clear. We're making an exception for you and Thor. Thor, because there's no way for him to be subtle, and you because I don't think any force in the entire world could stop you if you found your son. So, if you do find Peter in Peru, you do what you have to take protect your child, we're not going to stop you. The rest of us, on the other hand," he could tell Steve was giving Tony a pointed look, "are to be using purely surveillance tactics. No contact with the enemy until authorized to do so, and definitely not until more back up has arrived."

Bruce nodded, and heard Tony grumble out his assent.

The team was soon dismissed, and Bruce headed back to his quarters to get some rest before leaving on his flight to Peru. The pressure in his head told him that the Hulk wasn't too happy about this waste of precious time, but Bruce knew that sleeping on the plane would do nothing to rest him, and the drug-induced sleep of the past few hours was just as useless.

* * *

**Ok, first off, I start college Wednesday- I'M OFF TO COLLEGE! GUYS, ISN'T THIS SO EXCITING?! IF YOU'VE BEEN WITH ME SINCE THE VERY BEGINNING, THEN WE'VE GONE THROUGH 3 YEARS OF HIGH SCHOOL AND NOW WE'RE OFF TO COLLEGE TOGETHER. ISN'T THAT FREAKING EXCITING?! THANK YOU SO MUCH, MY BABES! I LOVES YOU SO MUCH!- but that's going to cause a little trouble with the updating. I couldn't have picked a worse time to start college than right when things are heating up, but I guess we'll just have to wait and see how things pan out.**

**Anyhoo, basically no updates for at least a week. Sorry! I know, I'm sorry, but this weekend is buying stuff for the dorm- the family that procrastinates together stays together!- and then it'll be... what is it called? Orientation Week? at the college, so I don't know how much writing I'll be doing. This is kind of my only link to sanity, so hopefully it won't be too long before I'm on my nice, cushy dorm mattress- with extra padding because that last bit was sarcasm, and bed-bug protection because EWWW!- typing away once more! Cross your fingers!**

**Ok, and second off, _DEADPOOL NEXT CHAPTER_. ****Just thought you'd like to know, because OF COURSE he's going to get involved.**

**.**

**HOMEWORK: I know you guys love this shit.**

**1) How many of you knew Deadpool would totally get involved and go out looking for Petey? Because that's happening next chapter. *SPOILERS***

**B) What characters, settings, canon events, etc. from the Marvel Universe would you like me to include in this story? Just one, please! (and I reserve the writ- 'scuse me- right to veto your choice, but I will do everything in my power to work it into the story!)**


	27. Chapter 22

**RECAP TO 'FRESHEN UP THOSE MINDS!**

_**1) Peter is Bruce's son.**_

_**2) Bruce adopted Peter and they lived with the Avengers.**_

_**3) Bruce decided to enroll Peter at Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters as a part of the Young Heroes Program (I think that's what I called it... I should probably look it up, but I've got homework to get to, so... I'll fix it later.)**_

_**4) Peter goes to school with Kitty, Kurt, Wade and Bobby, and gets into trouble after trying to save Wade from the chandelier.**_

_**5) Peter has a really awesome class schedule that I'm, like, kind of jelly right now over it.**_

_**6) Peter is being watched after a (purposefully) unnamed SHIELD agent is given orders to bring the boy in.**_

_**7) Peter is kidnapped during Flight class.**_

_**8) Bruce flips his baloney and ends up, shall we say, Black Out Hulkified for a good long time.**_

_**9) When Bruce wakes up, the Avengers quickly disperse to check out possible locations for Peter's location.**_

_**10) Peter is being tortured by a crazy, really crazy, kinda creepy HYDRA doctor, but isn't giving them the results they want.**_

_**(This isn't mentioned, but I figure it's within the realm of likelihood. If Peter doesn't do what they want soon, he'll be... erh, terminated.)**_

**...For those who needed a recap. Sorry I was gone so long!**

* * *

It had been two weeks since Petey Boy had disappeared, and Wade was beginning to get antsy.

It was hard to find things to entertain himself with while he waited for Peter to be found. Not that he hadn't helped in his own ways- he'd hacked into the computer systems and played around with the security cameras on the property that had been facing the direction of Peter's flight class at the time.

They'd mysteriously malfunctioned, and none of the adults seemed able to cut through the static, but Wade got a little farther and could see the faint image of a jet of some kind. It looked familiar for some reason, but Wade had quickly gotten bored, so he left a breadcrumb trail for the grownups to find their way through and left. He had other plans to get to if he was going to find his Petey Boy.

Kitty, Kurt and Bobby had been pretty upset when their friend had disappeared. It was upsetting that not only had people made it onto the property, but that they had incapacitated a grown-up mutant, and kidnapped their friend.

Kurt found it nearly too disconcerting to fall asleep that night when he thought about how anyone could just come onto the school property and take you away. He'd had enough experiments done on him because of his abilities to last him a lifetime.

That's why he nearly screamed when a hand slapped over his mouth and a shadowed head of unruly hair appeared above him.

Just before his senses kicked in enough for him to transport, a flashlight lit up, briefly blinding him until he could make out a grinning Wade hovering over him.

The other boy's grin widened creepily before he whispered, "You ready to find Petey, Little Boy Blue?"

Kurt had enough time to look confused before the flashlight flicked off and they were thrown back into the dark.

Kurt's last thought before being literally dragged out of his bed was that he was definitely not going to get any sleep tonight.

* * *

**I know this was really short, and I'm _really_ sorry about that, but I didn't want to overwhelm you guys too soon, cuz I know I've been gone FOREVER, and I really intended to update sooner, but they literally had us doing some activity or other for the whole of Move-in Week, so there was no time between _grown-up summer camp_ and _sleep_ for me to update. Ugh, sucky. And the day before classes I caught a cold, and now I have homework which is still "light" if college homework could ever be light, and I just don't have a lot of time to get everything done that I want to, so hopefully this'll do for now.**

**I love you guys!**

**HOMEWORK: (If you're okay with sharing) Please tell me one crazy thing that has happened to you this past week/weekend. (****_i.e. drunken mailman, a squirrel tripped in front of you- that happened to me the other day!, you drank out of the wrong cup and made a stupid joke about it to the cutey next to you, you tripped over your own foot and no one was around but you're still super embarrassed about it, etc. etc._****)**

**ALSO UPDATE TOMORROW THAT'S A PROMISE.**


	28. Chapter 23

**Oh my gosh, I love you guys!**

**Your weekend stories were AWESOME and SUPER funny! Oh my gosh, some of you guys had crazy stuff go down.**

**Another shorty, but I'll have more time to write more this weekend, so keep on the lookout! Things are getting to the _good_ stuff...**

* * *

Kitty shivered. The autumn weather had just started to kick in, and Wade and Kurt had shaken her awake in the middle of the night to be teleported out into the woods. The ground was wet from a recent rain storm, a freezing wind blew through the tall trees, and Kitty was only wearing her pjs and dinosaur slippers. Needless to say, she was not pleased.

"Wade, you better tell me why we're out here or you're goin' to 'gret it. I'm telling on you," she huffed, annoyed when she began to lisp as her teeth chattered.

Kurt disappeared for a second while Wade began to ramble about something as he tended to do. When the other boy appeared once more, he was half-dragging half-carrying Bobby on his back.

"Bobby ist not very easy to avake," Kurt grunted quietly as he set the other boy down.

Everyone knew that Bobby got his own room, because he liked to turn the AC _way_ down, especially at night before he went to sleep. The boy also slept like a 40,000 year old frozen mammoth, so in all likelihood, he wouldn't be waking up any time soon.

"Alright, you grubs! We've gotta mission t'do!" Wade's voice turned strangely deep as he strutted back and forth in front of the three- before suddenly switching to a soft lisp as he straightened, "Now, I've brought you all here tonight to attempt to gather clues about our dear Baby Boy's disappearance-"

"-Baby Boy?" Bobby's sleepy voice filtered up from where he lay on the ground, eyes still closed.

Kurt kicked him lightly, "Have you been avake zis whole time?!"

Wade cleared his throat, "_Focus_, people! We're trying to save Peter! Quit wasting time on the details and search for clues!"

The blonde boy flopped to the ground, his nose to the dirt and butt in the air.

Kitty frowned at the strange scene before her- Wade shuffling around in an impersonation of Scooby-Doo, and Kurt kicking a half asleep Bobby, all in the middle of the forest way past their bedtimes.

"Wade, it's nice that you want to help find Peter, but what do you expect us to do?" she waved her arms around to emphasize her point, "we're not grown-ups, and playing detective is fun, but this is serious. Professor and Mr. Summers and everybody are goin'a find him soon, anyway."

Wade grabbed her shoulders tightly, appearing before her in the blink of an eye, "Don't sell yourself short, kiddo. We may be small, but we have big brains! And, we have a secret weapon that no grown-up would ever think of using…" he grinned deviously.

Bobby lifted his head slightly, blinking owlishly, "What's that?"

Wade laughed and ran off into the woods, "The Author."

Kitty face palmed, shaking her head. Well, even if their apparent leader was crazy as polka-dots, the three other children still wanted to help.

Peter needed them.

Surprisingly, it looked as though Wade had already carried all the supplies out there. There were big lights, a laptop set on a box of Capri Sun, and magnifying glasses.

The children set out, searching the area for Wade's 'clues' among the wet grass, while Kitty sat at the computer. She was actually a child prodigy when it came to computer sciences, and had found a back door into the school's computer network. She may be young, but Wade was right. None of them were… erh, whatever he had said. Something about big brains? She'd lost interest as soon as he started rambling. However, the point was, she was smart, and she could help, even if it was only the tiniest bit.

The boys were all surrounding something on the ground, and Kitty quickly brought the laptop over.

They'd found a footprint. It was watered down and disappearing, but it was a good start. Following the direction of the footsteps, they walked towards where the kidnappers jet must've landed.

Bobby huffed, "Guys, the Professor and the Avengers would've already found all this stuff by now. What're we doing?"

Kurt's head tilted slightly, staring off at the base of a tree.

"Look," he pointed at a dark crack in the tree.

Bobby and Kitty gave the blue boy looks, but Wade stepped forward, "Ooh, shiny!"

A moment later, they were staring down at a tiny camera, fit and hidden perfectly in the cracks of a tree's bark.

"Woah," Bobby breathed.

"Does this mean we actually found something?" Kitty asked excitedly, "We're like detectives! This is so cool!"

Wade frowned as he looked down at the small, black circle in his hand, "Kitty, can you figure out where this is from?"

Kitty looked down at the small camera, and noticed what Wade was pointing at: a small imprint on the side.

The girl sat back down on her Capri Sun box and typed for a long time while Kurt and Bobby dropped sticks and leaves off the side of the cliff of the Flight Class, and Wade… itched himself.

She frowned when she finally found the result. After a thorough search of both the X-Men's and Avengers database- which was currently connected to the X-Mansion, Kitty found a similar camera among some back files with a Stark logo labeled 'Stupid Heads'.

Kitty turned to look at the others, "It belongs to SHIELD. The camera, it's standard extraction spyware for SHIELD."

* * *

**Ooh BABY! We're taking those baby steps, and soon it'll be _ACTUALLY SAVING PETER FROM THE SHIELD HELICARRIER WHILST CA:WS IS GOING ON_ time.**

**FLIPPING FANTASTICAL PANCAKES ON A PIXIE DUST STOVE.**

**HOMEWORK****:**

**Writing ****_Captain America:Winter Soldier_**** into the story is going to be tough, and I may miss the things you love most, so I want you to tell me your favorite parts from ****_Winter Soldier_****, so I know just what to include! You can include a maximum of three.**


	29. Chapter 24

**Spencer Smythe is really OOC in my alternate universe. He's basically been driven insane, and this is the result- insanity.**

**Baby Peter was originally supposed to go into a sort of comatose hibernation as a defense mechanism- that was the plan, at least. Not only would that have protected him from the horrifying memories, but you guys as well.**

**Instead, we're going to watch as a completely insane man... acts insane.**

**NO TORTURE, JUST MEANT TO BE CREEPY.**

**ENJOY!**

* * *

Dr. Smythe wasn't always… this way.

He'd once had a wife, and together they'd had a little boy. A beautiful family, until she left him. After promising to love him always, no matter what, she left him in the middle of the night, dragging their son with her. She had been complaining about his work being too much an obsession, and had scathingly said that he was more in love with his spiders than he had ever been with her. She just didn't understand.

He loved his family, dearly, and everything he did, he did for them. A few more months and he would've had a breakthrough in his research. A few more months, and he could've set them up for life. However, before he could reach that, his wife had left him- failed him- doubted him- left him.

His son, his little eight-year-old Alistair, had so much promise when it came to science, especially chemistry. Alistair had once told him that he like to watch the bubbles in the boiling glasses.

That that was his most favorite part.

Spencer Smythe hadn't seen them in twelve years. His son would be twenty now. A full-grown man. He couldn't have that now, and it was all because of the spiders. Those stupid spiders, the obsession they'd caused within him, and their refusal to make progress in his study of them. Some might have blamed his wife, but he understood. He always did. The spiders scared her, and the things the spiders made Spencer do scared her. It was the spiders fault. They scared his wife, they made her leave. Yes, as he stood amongst them, trying to find the answer to 8-limbed riddles that many couldn't even comprehend, his wife was pushed farther and farther away as he was sucked into the dark, puzzling tangle of black, sinewy legs and red, glowing eyes.

Now, here he was again. An uncooperative Spider that refused to make progress, and there was that inky black feeling of being swept under, of obsession and fixation. All because of this Spider. An unusual Spider, to be certain, but a Spider nonetheless.

It hid itself in the shell of a child, likely as a camouflage to prowl amongst unsuspecting children- Alistair could be playing on the playground with this Spider this very day, and never know the danger he was in. His little boy had to be protected.

Smythe felt a maddening energy fill his very being, whispering for him to _move_, to _do something_, to eliminate the threat to his child.

Yes, this Spider- yes, spiders. Spiders- arachnids… _many_, MULITITUDE, multiply, _multi_\- duo, duplication- duplication!

"Eureka!" the crazed doctor shrieked into the echoey lab, his scream of maniacal delight morphing into a banshee shriek that barely passed as a laugh as he fell to his knees.

Peter lay shivering on a cold metal slab, not 5 feet away, his eyes closed as he silently cried through this nightmare.

Where was _his_ Daddy?

* * *

**Two things: If you didn't notice, Smythe was still referring to his son as if Alistair was still a little boy. That's cuz he's crazy.**

**Thing #2, Peter won't be made into a HYDRA mini-Winter Soldier- HOWEVER, he will be mentally and physically tortured- don't friggin worry, cuz we are DEFINITELY NOT GOING TO WRITE/READ THAT SHIT.**

**Homework:**

**1) Was that chapter creepy, or do I need to up the ante? (i.e. "You know what time of year it is?" "What." "_This is Halloween_-" "It's September." "Halloween!" "HALLOWEEN!" -Thomas Sanders vine)**

**2)Favorite class(es) you're taking this year (so far!)- OR, if you're not taking any classes, what's a class you'd love to take (swimming? painting? advanced astrophysics? tellmetellmetellme)**


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